The Cartographer of Greenwood
by Schattenjagd
Summary: In a stormy night, a strange elf stumbles through the doors of Imladris. He is injured and it is not his love for drawing maps that has driven him out of his home for many years. Will he learn that he has to fight for what is dear to him or will he continue his travels and avoid the arguments awaiting him at home? Characters: Celebrian, Elrond, OC
1. 1: An Elf in the Rain

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of Tolkien's work and I just borrowed some of the professor's characters. The plot, however, and those characters you do not recognize from Tolkien's work, belong to me**

 **This story can be read independently. For those of you who read 'War of Elves': It takes place between chapters 2 and 3. This story will not interfere with my updating of War of Elves. This is a side-project and will be a short ff of about maybe 20 000 - 30 000 words.**

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Rain fell violently from the sky, turning small creeks into raging rivers and earthy plains into muddy beds. Nothing could be heard over the sound of falling rain besides the raging of the storm that threw the droplets in every direction, causing them to find a way in even the tiniest of places, and the loud thunder that followed the lightning bolts racing through the clouds. One would think that with weather as such, no living thing would dare to be outside and brave the elements, yet there was a slim figure struggling through a forest. Mud splattered the tight leggings and the cloak, wrapped around the lithe person in the hope of holding off some of the water, was beyond use, dirtied and the fabric soaked with water.

Another lightning bolt raced over the skies overhead and glinted on the wanderer's weapons; fine blades of elven steel, two daggers crossed on his back and two elegant long knives attached to scabbards by his hip. Instead of a quiver and bow, as one might expect from a wood elf, for the person hurrying through the rain was indeed one of the people of Greenwood the Great, two leather tubes were on the male's back. The leather was of fine quality, elven ornamentations burned into the thick skins, and the straps which held it to the elf's back were buckled with clasps that were a work of art in their own right.

The figure stopped upon hearing the thunder roar only a second or two after the lightning had lit the trees around. Harsh breaths were heard even over the rain and the elf pushed wet strands of hair out of his face. He needed cover from the storm, the elf knew, however he had gotten lost and had no idea where he was or where he should turn to.

Desperate, the elf stepped to a tree and put a gentle hand against the rough bark, as if afraid he could hurt the tree that had stood at this place for many years.

"Mellon-nin," the wood elf asked. _My friend._ "I need shelter. Could you help me? Do you know where to I should turn?"

The wood elf with the Silvan heritage, for only Silvans could speak with trees with such ease, could feel the tree's spirit stir underneath his touch.

"A wood elf? Here, in this place? It has been many years since I last saw one of you. But you should not be out, penneth, for the storm is strong. There is a house of elves close by, only a few miles away. Maybe you can make it in time. My friends will lead you the way. Be save, little elf, and hurry."

One second of stillness followed before the elf began running again, hoping against hope he would arrive at this strange house of an elf in time to escape the brunt of the storm. His head was lowered for the rain hit his wet face painfully, the mud splashed under his hurried footsteps. However, he could hear the trees' whisper to him and he followed their lead. The miles vanished under the long, strong legs of the elf, but he was hunted by a mighty storm. Wind had begun to pull roughly on his cloak, throwing him off course with its strength.

"You are almost there," he could hear the trees' whisper and he slowed his steps. He was at the edge of the forest. From here on, the trees would not be able to guide him anymore. Before him was a deep valley and the rain hid everything that might be behind it. For all the elf knew, it could be a dead end with no hope. The icy rain hid the valley behind a curtain of streaky grey.

"There is a path at the side of the hill. If you follow it, you will be at the house in but a few minutes."

Sceptical, the elf raised an eyebrow. Another lightning bolt followed by thunder convinced him however that he did not have much of a choice but to trust the trees to not lead him astray.

The path was narrow and slippery with the water. The wood elf's eyes widened in fear as he struggled to maintain his footing. Pressed against the rocky side of the hill as tightly as he could, he only moved slowly, his hands desperately clawing into the rock for some support. He could not feel the cold anymore, the cold which was so harsh it affected him despite his elven lineage. For hours, it felt, he continued on the dangerous, slippery road. He did not look up but his gaze was transfixed on the ground just before him.

He took another step. Suddenly, the rock crumbled underneath his foot and the elf fell. Throwing his arms up with a desperate yell, the lithe figure managed to hold onto the edge. A sharp pain in his lower leg nearly cost him consciousness. Holding onto reality with all power of will he possessed, he gritted his teeth. In his fall, he must have injured his leg, badly at that. The rain continued to fall and the thunder roared loudly, as if to remind the young walker of its presence. The elf's legs were dangling into a black abyss underneath him. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest. Tears mingled with the rain water. A whimper escaped his lips. With all his might, the lost wanderer pulled himself over the edge. A soft cry was nearly swallowed by the deafening rain and the elf sat up to clasp his leg with both hands. As he pulled one hand aside, he could watch the rain wash blood away from his light skin.

Slowly, soaked to the bones and with his leg crying in protest, the stubborn elf who refused to give up, stood. Whimpering with each step he took, cursing in the unintelligent tongue of the Silvan people, he continued. Time seemed to have lost its meaning. However, when the elf looked up for the first time after his fall, the broken away rock in the road still within sight, he saw lights shimmering through the curtain of the wet element. Lights that warmed his heart and returned hope and courage to his battered form. Exhausted, swaying on his feet with his right leg buckling underneath him every so often, the wood elf continued his path, silver eyes transfixed on the welcoming lights in the distance. His right hand steadied him against the wall, making up for the weakness in his leg.

The wall ended and bereft of his support, the elf stumbled. Seeing the welcoming house just out of reach, the elf began to crawl towards it. Lightning struck behind him and he instinctively burrowed his head underneath his arm. The loud crash of falling rocks shock him to the core. After the noises had subsided, he continued his stubborn crawl. Across a narrow bridge and into a courtyard that had turned into a swimming pool. Standing up with the aid of an elven statue, he stumbled towards the door he could see. Leaning heavily against it, he pounded on the door with his fist, closing his eyes in exhaustion while he waited.

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The dining table was awfully quiet without the twins, Elrond mused. Glorfindel had taken it upon himself to accompany Elrohir, Elladan and little Arwen to Lorien to visit their grandparents. Celebrian had decided it had been too long since she and Elrond had had some time for just themselves and so she had not gone to Lorien with their children. Therefore, Elrond and Celebrian were now sitting next to each other on a fairly empty table, only Erestor as company and he had his nose buried in a book.

Despite the children and the balrog-slayer being gone for over a week, it was only now that Elrond came to fully relax. The last week had been taxing with preparing Imladris for the storm to come and there had been several things he had neglected to take care of in the weeks leading up to Glorfindel's and his children's departure.

Elrond looked over to his wife and smiled. She was as beautiful as ever. Long, golden hair was pulled back in a loose braid and her grey eyes shone with warmth. Celebrian turned her head, having noticed she was being watched. She smiled upon seeing with what love he gazed upon her. Elrond leaned forward and gently pressed his lips against hers. His wife hesitated not to return the kiss and soon Elrond had to break away unless things went too far for the dining room. Glancing sideways, he noticed Erestor was still buried in his book. Celebrian chuckled and took his hand.

"Let us sit in the Hall of Fire before we go upstairs," she said and the sparkling in her eyes left no doubt what she intended to do once they reached their bedroom. Elrond, who found the idea very appraising, stood and offered her his arm.

The Hall of Fire lay relatively abandoned. A few guests were nursing a glass of wine while listening to the musicians who played gentle tunes. Instead of heading towards his customary armchair, Elrond pulled Celebrian against his side and they sat on a sofa. Taking a blanket, he spread it over his beloved, less for the warmth and more for the comfort. Talking in low voices, they enjoyed their own glass of wine.

Candles shone their warm light and a big fire in the fireplace spread a comfortable warmth that made it easy to enjoy the raging of the elements outside. The rain beating down heavily onto the house and the wind's hiss around the corners were typical for one of the strong autumn storms. Celebrian rested her head on Elrond's shoulder and he kissed her temple with a smile.

As the evening moved on, elves slowly trickled out of the Hall to retire to their beds. The musicians stopped playing and the Lord of Imladris nodded them goodbye. The only thing heard anymore was the fire crackling and the elements outside. Sometimes the turning of a book page mingled into the comforting sounds, but otherwise it remained silent.

Until suddenly a loud pounding interrupted the peace. Elrond tensed and Celebrian sat up. The pounding stopped for a moment, before returning once again. The brow of the wise elf-lord furrowed. Who would be pounding against the door at this time of night with such desperation? Raising quickly, Elrond hurried towards the door. He had felt no evil enter the valley. Braving himself for the coldness outside, the healer opened the door. He flinched as the icy rain hit his face.

"Forgive me for my interruption, my lord," a polite, yet utterly exhausted voice drew his attention towards the figure of an elf slumped against the closed half of the large entrance doors. In the dark, Elrond could only make out light hair under a wet hood of a useless cloak. Two tired, very bright eyes shone up to him and the same exhaustion that lingered in this elf's posture was reflected in these bright orbs. For an elf it was beyond doubt, his voice fair and light, without an accent as he used the Sindar language.

"Please, I have come to beg shelter, my Lord, for I fear I cannot brave this storm. I am wounded and weary and I do not know where I am."

Elrond stepped back immediately. He would not allow for this exhausted and desperate elf to remain on his doorstep.

"Of course, you are very welcome."

The elf pushed himself away from the closed wing of the door and stumbled inside. His leg buckled and he would have fallen had Elrond not quickly grabbed his elbows.

"Easy there," he said, concern evident in his voice. The elf was completely soaked. "Are you injured, mellon-nin?"

The elf smiled wryly and nodded.

"I slipped on my way here. I think, I may have cut my leg open, for it is bleeding and pains me greatly," he admitted.

"Let's sit you down," Elrond said and guided his new guest towards the close stairs for him to sit on. He saw how Celebrian, having followed him after hearing the elf's beg from the door, closed the door wing behind them, locking the storm out.

"Bring me a blanket for our guest, melleth," Elrond asked softly after sitting the elf down. _Love._ His own clothes were wet by now but he didn't pay it any heed. He kneeled in front of the stranger and pushed the wet cloak out of his way to take a look at the foot. The boot was sliced up at the side, so were the trousers underneath. The elf hissed in pain when Elrond opened the shoe laces.

"What is your name, mellon-nin?" The healer asked, focused on the injury and only glancing up long enough to see the elf bite his teeth together with an expression of pain on his face. _My friend._

"Soread," the elf answered with a fleeting grin. "And may I require who you are, my Lord? I am afraid I do still not know where I am." The very polite diction spoke of this elf's schooling.

"Ah, forgive me. You are in Rivendell, in Imladris, the Last Homely House east of the Sea and I am Elrond, the Lord of this house."

He felt the elf stiffen and looked up.

"I apologize, but I will have to take your shoe off. It will hurt quite a bit," he smiled apologetic. Celebrian came with the blanket and placed it next to the elf for the time being; he should take the wet cloak off before wrapping in the blanket, otherwise he would not warm up in the slightest.

"It is fine," Soread spoke through gritted teeth, though he remained tense. A groan was heard when Elrond quickly pulled the shoe off. Taking the scissors Celebrian held towards him, he cut the trousers away to see more of the wound.

Skilfully, Elrond examined the wound. It was a deep, jarred cut from Soread's knee all the way down to his ankle. It had swollen already and was bleeding heavily.

"I will need to clean the wound and stitch it up afterwards," the healer explained. "I could do it here but I would prefer to move you to the healing wing. Do you think you can make it up the stairs? I shall aid you. Otherwise we will have to get a stretcher. And we should also get you out of your wet clothing as soon as possible."

"I will manage," Soread spoke, already battling with the clasp of the harness he wore. Only now did Elrond find the time to realise the elf was carrying two knives and two strange leather tubes on his back, in addition to two long knives at his belt. Placing his items next to him, Soread pushed the hood of his cloak back. Silver blond hair appeared underneath, and the exhausted lines of a fair face. Looking at him, Elrond could see he was quite young, about the age of the twins. His eyes were of an unrivalled silver colour mixed with grey streaks that fit perfectly to his long hair.

"Celebrian, love, would you mind preparing everything? I will follow with our guest soon," Elrond directed towards his wife who had been looking over his shoulder.

"Of course," she said and stood to hurry up the stairs towards the healing ward.

Helping the elf to stand after he had gotten rid of his wet cloak and taking his knives and the leather tubes – Soread seemed anxious to not let them out of his sight – Elrond helped the stranger up the stairs. Sensing no threat from the wanderer, Elrond put the knives on the side table of a bed in the healing wing.

Half an hour later, Soread's leg was taken care of and he was wearing warm clothing once more. Looking at the wet clothes in greens and browns with a very distinctive pattern on them, Elrond wondered where the elf came from.

"You are not from Imladris, nor from Lorien, if I guess correct by your clothing. Where do you come from, Soread? Your clothing does not remind me of what the elves of the west usually wear."

"I hail from Greenwood the Great, my Lord, though it has been many years since I last set foot into this unrivalled forest. I am a traveller and only seldom return to the vast expanses under the most beautiful tree's in all of Arda." His words spoke of a deep love for said forest. Surprised about the answer, for Elrond had not met any wood elves since that fateful meeting where Crown Prince Alcanor had nearly been killed in his house, the healer rose a brow. He smiled though and decided he had deprived the elf of his sleep for long enough. He could see Soread's eyes dropping and the elf had been tired to begin with.

"Should you require anything, Soread of Greenwood, you must only ask. I wish you a good night. May the stars shine upon your dreams."

"And I thank the Valar for leading my steps to this house, my Lord, for I do not know what I should have done without your capable hands and your warm offer of shelter." The elf directed one hand towards his chest in gratitude and bowed his head.

"Tis nothing. Rest now," Elrond smiled and left the healing ward. Outside, Celebrian was waiting for him. He walked up to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Before she could speak, he kissed her insistently, planning on continuing where they had left of. Requiting the kiss with the same fire, Celebrian stirred her husband to their bed chambers. The door fell close behind them.

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 ** _Please review!_**

 **A big thanks to my beta(s) SamGreg!**


	2. 2: Travel to Draw

Elrond woke with a smile on his face. Celebrian's body was pressed against his and he softly kissed her naked shoulder. The sun would have already risen, though it mattered little as the heavy storm clouds still hid it behind them, allowing only lightning to shine over the save valley. Normally, the healer would have gotten up by now but today he enjoyed just staying in bed for a while longer. Sighing in delight, the wise half-elf took a deep breath scented with the smell of Celebrian's long hair. To Elrond, it smelt like summer flowers, mingled with a slight hint of roses like the soap she used to wash her hair with.

Celebrian woke a few minutes after him. Holding her warm body in his arm, Elrond kissed her good morning. Not having any duties, they spent another hour in each other's presence, speaking in quiet, hushed tone and exchanged soft kisses every so often. It was their growling stomachs that eventually forced them to stand up and get ready for the day. The rain continued to fall outside and the harsh storm made lying comfortably in bed even more welcoming.

Returning fully dressed into the sitting room adjoined to their bedroom a few minutes later, Elrond smiled at his wife who was plaiting her long hair, still wet from the bath she had taken. Standing behind her, his arms went around her waist and he pulled her to his chest, resting his chin on Celebrian's shoulder and watching her in the mirror.

"We should do this more often, love, just stay in bed in the morning and not have a care in the world," Celebrian spoke with a relaxed sigh.

"I concur," Elrond smiled and kissed her neck before giving her free.

"Let us see if they have saved some food for us," Celebrian laughed. Hand in hand they walked down the stairs. Arriving in the entrance hall, Elrond felt a wave of guilt wash over him upon seeing the wood elf seated on the settee next to the window. He was wearing his brown and green clothes, dirtied and torn as they were, and the cut open trouser leg revealed the white bandages underneath. Long silver blond hair was carefully braided above the ears and falling down his straight back. The elf was staring out of the window, watching rain draw lines against the glass. In his hands, he limply held a small bag filled with nuts and this appeared to be his breakfast for he ate it with the slowness of someone who waited for the feeling of satiety to kick in.

Elrond had forgotten about their injured guest, the memory having been pushed to the side after they had entered their bedroom last night. And this morning, the memory had not returned either.

"Good morning, Soread," he greeted and the elf turned. The exhaustion had left his fair face and his eyes shone warmly as he smiled. Placing the small bag of nuts besides him, Soread stood, favouring his uninjured leg. Placing a hand over his heart he bowed.

"Good morning, my Lord, my Lady. Please forgive me if I have ventured too far, however, I am none too fond of healing wards," he spoke.

"There is nothing to forgive," Celebrian reprimanded before Elrond got the chance. "Have you not yet eaten, Soread, or why do you stick to nuts and dried fruit?"

"I have eaten rations for too long to find any joy in them anymore but I am afraid it is all I have. It matters not, my Lady. If I may ask though, if you have something to drink, that would be most welcome." The elf bowed again. Elrond found himself staring at their guest in quiet disbelief. Soread had glanced over the topic of food, which, by all means, Elrond should have provided him with by now, and only asked for something to drink. The only reason no one else had ensured the wood elf would be shown to the breakfast table was that no one besides Elrond and his wife knew of his presence. Judging by his words however, the elf was not even expecting any food to be offered to him, humble in not only words but spirit as well.

Additionally, his well-versed politeness in his humble request struck the Lord of Imladris.

"We were just going to have breakfast. Please join us, I am sure the kitchens will offer more than travel rations. You shall not need to eat such simple – well, you can't even call them meals, can you? – while you are my guest," Elrond replied.

"If you do not mind my company, I will gladly take you up on your offer, my Lord."

"You mustn't address me with 'my Lord' with every sentence, mellon-nin," Elrond said, uncomfortable with the continuing respect the wood elf directed towards him despite Elrond even forgetting to provide his guest with simply things such as a decent meal. _My friend_.

"I shall endeavour to remember, my … mellon," Soread corrected himself. _Friend_.

"How does your leg feel? Do you need another pain reliever?" The healer asked to get over his own guilt.

"It feels fine, my … It feels fine. And I am in no need for any medicine, thank you very much."

Slowly, they made their way to the breakfast table. Elrond left to see what he could find in the kitchens and Celebrian gestured for Soread to take a seat before she went to get plates and cutlery. By the time she returned, Soread had taken his twin knives and the two leather tubes from his back and had placed them leaning against his good leg.

"What is in these tubes, Soread?" Celebrian tried to start a conversation as she sat opposite him.

Soread smiled widely.

"Maps, my fair Lady. I am a cartographer and draw maps. This is why I travel all of Arda: I wish to see all the places that I draw and it often takes many weeks to scout and map one little area. Inside those tubes are my most precious possessions." The enthusiasm in his voice made Celebrian smile. At the same time, she was astounded by the self-reliance of this elf who could be no older than her twin sons. However, recalling the last meeting with a greenwood elf, she remembered that in Greenwood the elves learned about the art of war and how to take care of themselves at an early age.

Elrond entered and he had heard Soread's last statement.

"Maps, you say?" He asked and sat down. "Where have you been to last?"

"I have travelled much of the land east of my home, entering the lands of Rhun. I went as far as the river Hestigoth where I dared to go no further for its people may be few but they are violent and at war with each other. Going on my own would have been an unwise idea, though one day I wish to venture further. For the last eleven years however, I travelled the wastelands of Mordor, mapping the area as well as I could, though a shadow of the fallen Dark Lord's darkness still lurks above this land."

"Mordor!" Elrond yelled in shock, not able to imagine anyone going there without desperate need, let alone a young and well-spirited elf like the one in front of him. "What in the Valars' name drove you to that forsaken land?"

"My father fought there. He came back deeply change, my mother tells me. I wanted to understand him, I guess, for there is little I share with him and his decisions and choices remain foreign to me. May he never know I went to this land; it would anger him greatly." The sadness that suddenly radiated around the elf made Celebrian's heart ache. Though she did not know where this pain came from, it seemed to have something to do with his father.

"You spent eleven years travelling through Mordor? Ai, what must have driven you to such desperate means," Elrond bemoaned quietly, the question not actually directed toward the cartographer. He had been there, at the battle fields of the Second Age. And at times, he still woke to the nightmares of this time, his elven memory a curse that prevented him from forgetting even the tiniest detail. He shivered, imagining the black land that had been Mordor, and the giant steep hill side of Mount Doom where he had fought and nearly died.

"Have you been on this side of the mountains before?" The beautiful Lady of Imladris stirred the conversation into another directing, sensing her husband's troubles. She grasped his hand and he was able to push the dark memories back and listen to Soread's answer.

"Nay, I have not. I have seen maps, of course. Really, there is no actual need for me to be here, and yet, I wish to one day be able to claim I have seen all or Middle-Earth, though it may well be impossible. I crossed the mountains and got surprised by the weather. Intending to draw all maps myself, I did not take one already available to aid me in my quest and therefore got lost very quickly. I must thank my friends and the Valar for leading me to your house in this storm."

"Your friends? I thought you were travelling alone?" The healer asked worriedly. Why had the elf not told them his friends were still outside, facing the raging storm?

Said elf chuckled deeply, his eyes dancing with mirth.

"My friends are the trees, my Lord. They are light-spirited and keen to aid. I have had many lengthy conversations with many of them and their whispered words encourage me time and time again, driving the loneliness away that sometimes overcomes me on my travels."

Two servants entered the room with trays with breakfast. As if it was his cue, Soread's stomach began to rumble and though he tried to continue looking at his hosts, his gaze drifted over to the food every few seconds.

"Help yourself," Elrond invited and placed some baked goods on his own plate.

Throwing one long, envious glance on the cake in front of his host, Soread reached for the porridge and some fresh fruits.

"Do you not want some cake, Soread? Or some eggs and bacon?" Celebrian wondered.

"I am afraid I won't be able to stomach such food, my Lady, as much as I yearn to eat them. I have travelled Mordor for eleven years and nothing much grows there. I have grown unaccustomed to food and shall have to be careful of what I eat."

"I shall ask the chefs if they wouldn't mind to prepare some small plain meals for you to eat throughout the day," Elrond quipped in, a frown on his forehead. The healer inside of him did not think the stranger's diet very wise.

"Nay, I shan't be a bother," Soread smiled. The glare with which Elrond punished him now made the elf shrink back. Suddenly, he looked very young and reminded Celebrian of the twins whenever they were twitching under their father's harsh gaze. She laughed openly and sweet as it was, Soread blushed.

"That was no request, mellon-nin. For as long as you stay in my house, I feel responsible for your well-being. I want you to eat as much and regularly as you think you can stomach. I noticed you were shivering yesterday when you arrived and even now you pull your shoulders up as if you were cold -" Soread immediately squared his shoulders "- and I doubt not your affinity to the cold is not solely because of your injury but because of insufficient nutrition as well. It is no bother, on the contrary, it would sooth my healer's spirit to see you recover."

"As you wish, my Lord," Soread replied evenly and bowed his head. This reaction caused Elrond to frown as he had expected something else, though he could not have said what it was he had expectant. He felt Celebrian's hand on his thigh and as he met her beautiful eyes, she nodded towards his plate and silently requested he eat and not pestered their guest. Trusting her instincts, he returned to his meal.

They were eating quietly, Soread visibly holding himself back and eating slowly, only ever filling his bowl with one large spoonful of porridge at a time. It was clear he did not wish to help himself to more than he'd be able to eat.

By the time he had finished, his hosts were done with eating as well. Stacking the used dishes carefully into each other, Soread met their eyes with an uncertain smile. A loud thunder caused him to flinch slightly and his smile turned embarrassed.

"Are storms as strong as this one common around here?" He asked.

"In the autumn yes, though rarely as bad as this one. The clouds can't cross the mountains and the water rains down on this side," Elrond explained. "I am afraid you will be stuck here for another few days. Which might not be a bad idea as I think your leg will need some time to heal. You should not wander with an injury like that."

"I agree. It was an unlucky fall. Fortunately, I am as capable as I am careful and therefore do not get injured often, despite the sometimes dangerous paths I chose," Soread explained with confidence in his own skill.

"Would you mind showing me some of your work, Soread? I'd be very interested to see your skill of drawing," Elrond asked eagerly. Soread laughed.

"Of course, my Lor-," he stopped himself, smiled and continued, "-Elrond. Though I must warn you: I tend to go on and on about my maps. Should I begin to bore you, please do not hesitate to stop my monolog; I shall take no offence. I would appreciate it, however, if you do not simply walk away, as I will feel incredibly stupid once I come to realise I have been talking with someone who has left my side hours ago."

Elrond chuckled about the idea because the self-mockery seemed to be founded in actual happenings.

"Who would do that?" Celebrian asked amused.

"I am afraid I was subjected to this treatment by my sister several times and I might have bored my older brother to sleep once or twice as well," Soread admitted. The mirth had vanished from his voice however, and a deep frown crowned his noble brow. Again, Celebrian got the impression of sadness lingering in the air before Soread's lips took a grim expression. When he raised his head again, though, the smile was back on his face, yet this time it did not quite reach his eyes.

"Maybe we could go to your study, my … Elrond." Apparently, the wood elf had trouble to stop calling the healer 'my Lord', Celebrian mused. "My maps are precious to me and I would prefer to show them to you without the danger of staining them."

Elrond stood, truly interested to see if the elf was as good as he claimed to be. It was hard to find new maps by elven hand nowadays. If the cartographer was any good, Elrond might ask him for an updated version of Eriandor once the elf had been travelling the land and had drawn the corresponding map.

Soread took the leather chest belt with his map tubes and knives but did not bother putting it on, simply holding it in his hand. He winced slightly upon shifting his weight on his injured leg but he waved the healer away who made to support him. Pursing his lips, Elrond wondered if it was maybe unwise to allow his guest to wander around. One look, however, proofed it would not be possible to completely detain this elf for he was a true wanderer, not to be bound down. No, the elf would rest but he would not appreciate it if Elrond attempted to commandeer him to rest.

Elrond held the door of his study open for Soread to step through. To his surprise, Celebrian followed as well, placing a quick kiss on his lips on her way in. His wife was not usually interested in maps but apparently the young elf had caught her attention with his enthusiasm about his work.

Smiling, Elrond closed the door. Soread was looking around curiously and the healer felt the sudden urge to tidy up his desk a bit which was drowning under paper. While he cleared up the large table meant for meetings – which had somehow gotten covered in papers and books as well – Soread was swiftly glancing over his books before finding more interest in the little trinkets the healer had lying about. Normally, it was the books that caught everyone's attention, especially because some of them were rare and very valuable. Elrond shook his head, recalling that Silvan elves did not trust in written word but instead used their language to impart knowledge. As far as he knew, Silvans knew neither how to write nor read and therefore books held no interest to them.

"Here you go. Excuse the mess," Elrond caught Soread's attention after he had cleaned the desk up enough for the maps the elf had with him.

The cartographer smiled and opened the leather tube. Nimble fingers pulled out a several large pieces of rolled up creamy parchment. Choosing one, he placed it on the table before he returned the others into their protective cover and then, he gently yet swiftly unrolled the map.

* * *

 _ **Please review!**_

 **Thanks to my beta(s) SamGreg**

 **Guest:** Thank you very much for your review! I hope you will enjoy this story


	3. 3: The Powers of a Map

A sharp intake of breath was heard then Soread unrolled the map. Both Noldor stared at the parchment. They were entranced by the elegant strokes on the map. Elegant strokes that blurred together. Elegant strokes forming to show the horror of Dagorlad and Udûn. The map was both astounding in its beauty as it was in its ugliness. The elf had not just drawn the land, but he captured its essence. One could feel death lie on these fields and the harsh, cold winds of Mordor seemed to wash over Elrond once more as he stared down onto the drawn plains mirroring his memory.

For months, Elrond had fought on this plain, had lived where now only death resided. He had seen many friends die on this land. Somehow, this map did not just show the area, it captured his emotions so clearly, the elf lord teared up.

"Forgive me," a soft voice whispered and the map was taken away. Elrond had to blink several times. Then, he looked up and was met with guilty silver eyes.

"I had not expected … I should have chosen differently. This one carries too much pain. Please, my Lord, forgive my youth. I had no idea how great this war was. I did not wish to show you the lands of Mordor itself, but as this was the land I had travelled last and we had talked about it earlier, I had thought it would be of greater interest. It was my mistake, my Lord." Soread seemed distressed by the pain he had caused.

Staring at him, Elrond came to realise that the elf truly did not understand with which skill he had captured the fabric that made up his own nightmares. He was too young to have fought at the Last Alliance. To him, it was nothing but a plain field. Maybe one with a shadow of darkness but he could not comprehend the horrors that had taken place there. He had drawn the map without noticing the pain he had brought down to paper with it, doing so with a skill Elrond had never before witnessed.

"My love?" Celebrian's soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts. She had her arms wrapped around his middle and was gently caressing his back.

Elrond cleared his throat. Seeing the concern and shame in Soread's posture, he smiled comfortingly.

"Worry not, mellon-nin. You have done nothing wrong. I have seen many maps of this land before and yet none has caused me such distress. It speaks for your skill that you have managed to stir memories long thought buried. Please, show me a different map of lands more peaceful so they may sooth my aching soul," Elrond spoke and with each word, his voice became a bit smoother until it sounded as unbothered as the healer wished it to be.

"Are you certain, my Lord?" Soread made sure. He held the parchment in trembling hands, rolled up tightly and he worried his lip.

Elrond placed a comforting hand on the wood elf's shoulder. Looking deeply into his eyes, he smiled.

"Yes, I am sure, mellon-nin. You did nothing wrong and there is no harm done."

A slight feeling of sorrow took hold of the great Lord as he watched how his guest, suddenly nervous, fumbled to return the map into its cover. He should have controlled himself more, Elrond thought to himself. It was just a map, after all, and a good one at that. Slightly _too_ good in his opinion. Yet he had not wished to disturb the young cartographer so deeply. Sharing a glance with Celebrian, he pulled a grimace in discomfort about the situation he had created. His wife simply smiled and patted his arm in a soothing gesture.

Soread chose more carefully this time, pulling out several maps and looking at them before deciding on one. Opening it, he placed it on the blank table top, warily watching his hosts' faces as he did so. He was not disappointed this time. Utter surprise of the sheer beauty of the place caused Lady Celebrian to open her moth in shock. She let go of her husband so she could have a closer look. The healer too was taken away by the map. No dark lands were drawn perfectly on the firm parchment but the rolling hills of Rohan. Freedom itself shone through the lines of black ink, the spirit of wild winds and vast fields, of sun shining on grass and of a proud people somehow visible in what should be nothing but a simple representation of a region. Drawn by Soread's hand, it was so much more.

The wood elf smiled over the obvious appreciation and carefully weighed down the edges of his map with little weights he had pulled out of a pocket. He stepped back and simply watched how the Noldor adored his work and passion.

"Never before have I seen a map like this," Elrond admitted, his long fingers brushing gently over the lines. He looked up and at Soread who was still smiling.

"Drawing maps like these is a skill we treasure enviously amongst our people", Soread explained softly, having regained his confidence. "It is not taught to anyone who is not of Silvan blood and it takes no less than a century to learn the technique and much longer to perfect it." A certain pride rang in his voice and Elrond could only admit it was well-founded.

Elrond could think of no words to answer. He returned his glance to the parchment. It was truly regrettable that the Silvans did not share their knowledge, though it did explain why he had never before laid eyes upon such work: Silvans were not known for their travels and it had been many years since the political relationships had been favourable enough for Elrond to travel to Greenwood. Even that Soread was here instead of in his forest was strange. For one fleeting moment, he wondered what might have driven the wood elf to leave his treasured home and he decided to ask the question later on.

After he had given his hosts ample opportunity to marvel his work, Soread began telling them about his travels in this country and how he had crafted the map, going into such detail that Elrond barely understood every second word. Despite having said the Silvans did not share their knowledge, Soread did talk about the art of drawing a bit, though he mainly focused on the scouting of the area and how he worked out the distances and things like that. His voice was filled with enthusiasm and passion. Celebrian enjoyed simply watching both male elves as they leaned over the map and she too lost herself to daydreams upon glancing down, soon forgetting everything that was around her.

Sensing he could barely listen anymore for the words the cartographer used were so foreign to him they might as well have been an entirely different language, Elrond raised his hand. The elf did not see the gesture and continued with his explanations. Amused, the healer placed a hand on his shoulder, causing the elf to flinch and then look up with keen eyes.

Sheepishly, the young traveller smiled and nodded in understanding, pressing his lips shut as he straightened. Only now noticing that Soread had been trying to take weight off of his injured leg, Elrond cursed himself. A single glance out of the window also showed him they spent several hours in his study, dinner time drawing near. And all this time he had made his guest stand, not even thinking to offer a seat.

"I apologize, I forgot you were injured, please take a seat", Elrond said worriedly, causing his wife to look up as well.

"Ai, Soread! Why did you not say anything?" She exclaimed and ushered the wood elf to the settee, forcing him to sit down by putting her hands firmly on his shoulder.

"And we haven't even gotten you fresh clothes either. We should have done that before looking at your map. Normally, we are better hosts. I will make sure you get some new clothes by tomorrow and we can wash your cloak, tunic and shirt if you would like to keep them, though I am afraid both your shoes and trousers are beyond mending." She spoke.

Carefully, and a bit reluctantly, Elrond took the weights off the parchment and rolled it together.

"Shall I put it away?" He asked, uncertain whether the elf had a system for his map storage or not.

"The one with the tree on it", Soread answered, sighing as he sat. "And worry not, my fair Lady, you are good hosts indeed. Not only did you offer me food and shelter and took care of my injury, but you gave me the chance to show-off my maps, which I always enjoy greatly. Though I must admit, fresh clothes do sound wonderful."

Elrond chose the tube where a proud tree decorated the fine yet sturdy leather and opened it. Cautiously, he slid the map back inside. Noticing a note on the floor, he picked it up. Elvish runes were crawled in elegant writing over the sheet. Assuming it belonged to his own work, he placed it on his table without so much as a second look, before he closed the tube and placed them on the table.

The bell rang, signalling it was time for dinner. Elrond threw another glance out of the window. He couldn't believe they had been in here for that long.

"Do you mind waiting until after dinner before we go and get you fresh clothes, Soread? I am afraid we lost all sense of time over that map of yours and unlike I promised I had not had a chance to talk with the chefs about your diet. You should have eaten something in between our late breakfast and now. I do not wish for you to be without food for much longer."

"That is fine, my Lord. And I do not feel particularly hungry either, so no harm done."

"You don't feel hungry because you are used to little food. Which does not make the lack thereof any healthier for you, mellon-nin. And please, I must ask you again, do not call me 'my Lord' if I behave like anything but."

Soread smiled and nodded though Elrond could not stop himself from noticing the elf did not attempt to contradict him.

"I will quickly go down and talk with the chefs. I shall see you at dinner though," Elrond said, eager to fix his failings. Kissing Celebrian swiftly on the lips, he left the study and his long legs carried him through the halls.

The feeling of guilt was gnawing heavily on the healer as he made his way down to the kitchen. He did not understand how he could have forgotten to make sure Soread had specialised meals throughout the day. Today was definitely not a day to be particularly proud of, the healer decided, determined to make it right by his so likeable guest.

Quickly deciding on a small detour, Elrond headed to Erestor's favourite place: The library. He ran into the chief councillor of his household half-way towards the library. The elf had his nose burrowed in yet another book, several rolled up parchments under his arm. The long black hair fell elegantly over broad shoulders, and his current demeanour was effectively hiding the elf's strength and skill with the blade.

"Erestor," Elrond called out to his kin, a half-elf like himself, though the relation was distant.

"Elrond," the elf spoke in surprise, finally lifting his sharp eyes from the words in his book. "Is it not time for dinner?"

"Yes, it is. But I have an appeal to make, I am afraid. We have a guest. He arrived late at night yesterday and I am afraid I have culpably neglected my role as his host. Would you please be so kind and make sure there will be a room prepared for him after dinner? He shall receive one of the guest rooms on the main floor," Elrond asked. The other elf rose a brow in surprise upon the healer's request to find a room on the main floor as these guest rooms were usually for close friends and family members. Imladris had many guest rooms to offer, though they were usually housed in the adjourned guest house rather than the main house itself.

"Of course. I shall see right to it," Erestor nodded without further comment and turned on his heels, the book held open by a finger but no longer perused by keen eyes.

Sighed lightly, glad yet another embarrassing failure had been averted, Elrond turned back and hurried down to the kitchens.

By the time he managed to enter the dining hall, dinner had already begun. For the lack of guests and with his children and Glorfindel gone to Lorien, the hall was for once unusually empty, though not as abandoned as it had been for breakfast. Greeting everyone with a regal nod, Elrond moved through the hall to sit on his usual seat. In passing, he placed a gentle hand on Celebrian's shoulder who looked up to smile at him. Soread was sitting opposite them and was completely focused on his meal. Upon noticing Elrond, not having spotted him right away, the wood elf seemed indecisive whether to stand or remain seated, which made for an awkward movement that caused Elrond to press his lips together to avoid a broad smile.

"Please, be at ease," he spoke, underlining his words with a hand gesture.

Dinner was quiet, though not uncomfortably so. Soread barely looked up from his food, eating neatly but just as slowly as he had for their late breakfast. Meanwhile, Elrond and Celebrian were conversing with a few other Noldor elves who had joined them.

The evening passed and Elrond, who kept glancing at their young guest, noticed his eyes dropping in tiredness. Despite the many questions he had hoped to ask tonight, the healer decided to show Soread directly to his room after dinner. As if his thoughts had summoned him, Erestor entered through the door. Looking up to Elrond's seat, the dark-haired elf nodded and walked up to them.

"Excuse my delay," he bowed, his gaze curiously wandering over to Soread. The elf had flinched violently upon the sudden voice directly besides him and he jumped to his feet, his nimble fingers reaching for his weapons before he stopped himself. All tiredness had vanished from his face and a cold mask had slipped over his features, hiding all emotions that might betray him. He stared at Erestor, taking his approach in from head to toe, measuring him whether or not he was a threat. Apparently satisfied with what he saw, he did not draw on his weapons, though he did not give his poised stance up.

"Soread," Elrond spoke gently and therefore caused the cartographer to look at him. "May I introduce you to my friend Erestor, who is of my kin. Lord Erestor is the chief of my household."

The cold mask slipped. Soread swayed slightly and Elrond abruptly stood. Erestor reacted quicker though, grasping the elf's arm and steadying him. The wanderer took a few seconds to collect himself before he nodded towards Erestor as a signal he could stand unaided. Reluctantly, the dark-haired Noldor gave him free.

"Lord Erestor," Soread smiled now. He bowed. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Forgive my reaction; you startled me and I have travelled in dangerous areas for too long. I did not mean to react defensively."

"Worry not, dear child," Erestor spoke gently. Elrond knew, compared to his old friend, who was older even than Glorfindel, all elves seemed like children. Soread did not take the term as an offence but smiled gently and inclined his head.

Gesturing for Soread to sit, Erestor elegantly lowered himself as well, keeping an eye on the person next to him.

"Let's get you to bed, Soread," Elrond smiled as soon as the elf had finished with his dinner. A tiny flicker of upset crossed his features, no doubt not enjoying being treated like a child, but then relief was the only emotion on his face. He stood and bowed before Erestor and Celebrian.

"It was a pleasure to dine with you. May the stars shine upon your dreams, Lady Celebrian, Lord Erestor."

"Sleep well, child," Erestor answered and Celebrian wished him a good night as well

Elrond lead Soread through the halls, being mindful to stay close and walk slowly.

"You seem tired," he spoke.

"I am indeed," Soread admitted. He stopped and his host immediately stopped as well. "Would you mind to aid me, my Lord? I am afraid my leg has begun hurting more than I would like to bear."

Surprised and glad that the elf had admitted his weakness, Elrond offered him his arm to lean on. Making a mental note to check on the wound before allowing him to sleep and insist the elf rest more tomorrow than he did today, he ignored his worry for now.

"Should you require anything tonight, Soread, please come to me immediately. It is just two doors down from here," Elrond spoke before opening the door to the guest quarters Erestor had readied for Soread's use. Stepping through the door, they found themselves in a sitting area. Two doors opened from here, one leading to a study, the other to the bedroom and the adjoined bathroom.

"Sit," Elrond ordered Soread and let go of him. After he had taken a medical kit out of a small cabinet, he placed it on the low table. This being a house of healing, each room had a rather large medical kit at its disposal in case the occupant would need any of it. Being a lot larger than ordinary first aid kits, it saved Elrond from the trip to the hospital ward. Placing the kit on the table, Elrond went to the adjoined bathroom to wash his hand before he returned and disinfected his hands with an additional salve.

Soread, having realised what his host intended to do, had taken his destroyed boot off as well as willowing his cut up trouser leg up. The bandage on his leg had wetted slightly and it was with worry that Elrond took it off. Hopefully no infection had set in, he thought but found himself disappointed as soon as the swollen inflamed flesh became visible underneath the bandage. Soread hissed. Looking up, Elrond insured that the elf was doing fine. Placing a clean piece of especially fine fabric on the wound, the healer stood. He needed to clean the wound once more and Soread could probably do with a pain reliever as well.

Working quickly and completely in silence, Elrond cursed himself about his inattentiveness. Though he was not entirely to blame. He would not have expected an infection to set in and Soread had not mentioned any trouble with his wound. A bandage change would have only been on the plan this evening anyway. The only thing Elrond could actually blame himself for was that he had made the greenwood elf stand during the entire day.

Firmly wrapping white bandages around the ugly wound, Elrond frowned deeply. He did not like how that leg had looked like.

Flexing his fingers, Elrond stood. Putting the soiled bandages in a paper bag, he placed the waste next to the door so he wouldn't forget to take it with him on his way out. Absentmindedly, he told Soread he would go and wash his hands and left. When he came back a few minutes later, he stopped in the doorway. Only now did he notice that Soread had apparently fallen asleep while he had been administering his wound. Silver eyes were halfway lidded and the head of the sleeping elf lay back to rest on the back of the settee. In his right hand, he was still cradling the cup of tea the healer had made for him. Carefully, Elrond bent down and took the cup out of the nimble fingers only to place it on the table next to them.

He would have to wake him up, Elrond regretted, smiling about the peaceful expression the cartographer wore in his sleep. The silver hair framed his fair face and his relaxed features made him look younger, like everyone did in their sleep.

Kneeling on the settee, Elrond gently grasped Soread's arm. When the elf did not wake upon the touch, he shook him slightly.

"Soread, wake up," Elrond demanded and watched how the elf blinked a few times before he seemed to realise where he was.

"I apologize," the wanderer spoke, his voice heavy and soft with sleep. "I must have dozed off."

"Yes, you have. Now, come on, you should go to bed. I have placed a nightgown on your bed. If you put your clothes in front of the door, they will be collected and returned to you once they are clean. There are a few sets of clothes in the wardrobe, feel free to help yourself to something that seems fine. We can get you some properly fitting clothing tomorrow morning. Come on now, child, you need your rest."

Elrond pulled Soread to his feet by his elbow and led him to the bedroom. The few steps seemed to wake the elf up enough for Elrond to feel fine leaving him alone. Though it was not even an hour later, a soft knock at the door was heard before the healer let himself in. He checked on his sleeping guest and only left once he saw Soread had managed to change and made it to bed. Turning the flame on an oil lamp down before extinguishing it fully, the Noldo left the guest chambers and closed the door behind himself.

* * *

 _ **Please review!**_

 **Thanks to my beta(s) SamGreg!**

 **Guest:** I am glad you like the interactions between the characters and I hope the reveal of teh maps do not disappoint. And yes, Soread has trouble to drop the 'my Lord'-thingy a slight bit :P


	4. 4: To Become a Cartographer

The storm outside was finally beginning to subside, Elrond noted with some relief. However, it was still unusually dark in the corridors for this time in the morning and the wind was hurling fat raindrops and branches against the side of the house.

As it was only half an hour before breakfast, Elrond wanted to change Soread's bandages once more and make sure the elf would receive a meal. It was fascinating; finally, his children were not here to worry him and now his guest managed to keep him on edge. Celebrian had laughed when he had told her so, though she had not disagreed. Maternal as she was, she had worried about the infection a lot more than Elrond himself had done as soon as the healer had told her about it. It had only put her slightly at ease to hear that the healer had already taken onions, garlic, wine and ox gall and had mixed it in the proper amounts to let it sit for nine days for it to become the highly effective medicine that helped against most infections.

Celebrian wanted to see the young elf for herself. Therefore, she was by his side as Elrond walked down the corridor and stopped in front of the door leading to Soread's chambers. After a short knock which was not met with any answer, the healer entered the sitting room. Finding it empty and the door leading to the bedroom still closed, Elrond gestured for his wife to wait here while he proceeded to knock at the bedroom door. No point in crowding their guest, especially should the wood elf still be asleep.

There was no answer to the knock. Knocking a second time, Elrond leaned in closer to the door trying to hear movement behind it. When he heard nothing, he pressed the handle down and slipped into the room.

The bed was still occupied. The tall figure was curled up and with the blanket drawn up to his chin.

"Soread?" Elrond attempted to wake the elf without startling him, hesitatingly lingering next to the door. A slight unease spread in his thoughts when the elf still did not react in any way. From what he had learned about the cartographer so far, he would have expected the elf to have a light sleep and to wake upon the intrusion. He had, after all, spend a lot of time travelling dangerous lands where such a skill was needed dearly.

Moving around the bed, he relaxed upon seeing Soread's eyes wide open in his sleep, glanced over with elven dreams. The healer smiled. Apparently, the greenwood elf had been a lot more tired than they had thought. Again, he was reluctant to wake the sleeping elf but at the same time he knew he would have to check on that wound again soon.

Elrond scanned the room until he located the traveller's weapons leaning against the wardrobe in safe distance. Good, so the elf would not be able to react with drawing a dagger upon being woken up so unexpectedly. Leaning over the bed, he gently grasped Soread's upper arm and shook him. He needn't have worried, for instead of jerking awake like he had expected, Soread simply blinked a few times before he slowly sat up. His eyes still clouded with sleep and his facial expression making clear he would very much like to continue sleeping, Soread blinked. He looked around in confusion, apparently not realising where he was. He saw Elrond and his brow furrowed. He blinked some more.

"Where am I?" He then asked sleepily, much to Elrond's amusement. It seemed he had woken his charge from a very deep sleep and Soread did not seem to even recognize him. At the same time, Soread's calmness showed Elrond he didn't have to worry as it was truly only the elf's sluggish mind that failed to call upon the memories, all while Soread was aware that he was in no danger.

"You are in the guest quarters in Imladris. I am Elrond, mellon-nin. I am sorry I had to wake you."

Soread blinked once more until sudden understanding returned to him. He blushed.

"Oh, forgive me, my Lord. My sleep was deep. It has been a long time since I rested my soul. You have a very peaceful home, my Lord, and I felt save here."

"I am glad to hear that," the healer admitted with an understanding smile. "How about I take a look at your wound before you get ready for the day?"

"Yes, of course," Soread mumbled, moving to the edge of the bed, brushing his silver hair back as he did so.

Elrond went back to the sitting room to get the medical kit before he washed his hands and set to work. The injury was still infected but did not look any worse than it had yesterday. Still, he told Soread he would be spending most of his day in bed. To his surprise, his patient smiled at that, saying he would welcome the rest.

"There are clothes in the wardrobe, Soread. Celebrian and I will wait in the sitting room for you. Please take your time, though, we are in no hurry," Elrond spoke after he finished up and left the room.

"How is he?" Celebrian asked as soon as he stepped out of the room. Elrond chuckled.

"Completely exhausted. He barely even recognized me when I woke him up," he said amused.

Soread joined them only a few minutes later. All sleepiness had disappeared from his features and made place for the amicable smile. His hair was carefully braided once more and he was wearing a pair of dark trousers and a green shirt, though both were too big for his narrow frame and somehow did not appear right on him compared to his own clothing he had worn before.

"You are too thin," Celebrian spoke up before Soread had even the chance to greet them.

"If you say so, my Lady, I am sure you must be right. I have not been eating as much as I would have liked during the last few years."

Celebrian watched the elf as he spoke. It still bothered her that this elf, who was so full of live, had decided to travel Mordor for over a decade. No one came up with an idea like that just like that. Especially no Silvan elf!

"When is the last time you spoke to another elf before you came here?" She asked. The question confused him, she could tell, though he answered honestly nonetheless.

"Twelve years ago, my Lady. Before I left my- … Greenwood. Before I left Greenwood." Another shadow crossed his features and he suddenly seemed uncomfortable.

Not wishing to press the matter further right now, the Lady of Imladris stood and declared they should go downstairs to eat breakfast.

Once more, they were late for the meal and the few elves currently staying in the house had left already. The food was being kept warm by candles underneath the plates and Elrond spotted one lidded dish he recognized as the light meal the chefs had prepared specifically for their injured guest.

"Tell me something about yourself, Soread."

"What do you wish to know, my Lady?"

"Well, for one, how did you get into maps? Is it a family tradition?"

"Nay," he answered, a thoughtful expression on his face. "T'is no tradition. My parents are both warriors. I joined the army as soon as I was old enough to. I saw it as my duty to defend our home and my friends, the trees, against any creatures of evil. My father was greatly displeased with my decision, despite my older brother having followed his footsteps already. He said I should not take up arms but that he wished to see me enjoy the protection offered to me for as long as I can. I guess he wanted to keep me save, having failed to do the same for my older brother who now often returns home bearing injuries."

Soread paused to eat a few spoonfuls and think.

"To come back to your question, my Lady, I had just finished my basic training and wanted to aim for a leadership position within the army, taking extra courses with our captains, when I first saw a map drawn by an old Silvan archer. It fascinated me. I was working a lot with maps in the next few weeks, learning how to use them for tactical purposes. For example, how to act and command if they depict an unknown area and so forth. I stayed in the army for another two decades, serving under a very accomplished captain. However, I often discussed this art with one of our Silvan cartographers. When he offered me an apprenticeship, I dropped out of the military and took the opportunity. In the beginning, it was tough. He was having me copy maps over and over again for years. All of the copies worthless, I might add, as I did not manage to capture the distances correctly. I was close to giving up and returning to the military, but then he finally stated my quill stroke was good enough for him to actually begin teaching me." Soread rolled his eyes and Elrond guessed if either of his sons would have told the story, this would be the point where they'd be cursing the older cartographer.

"From there on, I have been learning his skill for the next few decades. It turned out I had a talent for maps and not only did I learn quickly and work efficiently, but also my maps had a very high quality to them, one usually only developed many years after the end of apprenticeship. One day, my mentor suddenly brought me to stand in front of the King. I was incredibly nervous and had no idea why we were there. However, he just showed my works to King Thranduil and requested a guard for me to go south and map an area of the forest I had never been to before. This map should be my mastery. The King granted his request and I travelled with two guards to scout the forest and draw my map. My mentor accepted my work and allowed me to sign it. With our maps, a Silvan signature is what proves they are by the hand of a master cartographer. The map was then given to the King and he actually used it for instructing the captains meant to build a new outpost in the area I had mapped."

It was obvious the young cartographer was very proud of this achievement.

"That is very impressive," Celebrian stated only half dutifully and more actually meaning it. "So now you are a master of your art. What is the exact –"

"My love," Elrond interrupted her amused. "We should maybe give Soread the time to eat before his food becomes cold. I am sure you will have ample opportunity to shower him with questions later on."

Celebrian nodded and apologized. The elf appeared surprised for a moment before he looked down onto his meal. The smile that appeared on his features concerned Elrond as it showed true happiness about nothing but a very simple dish.

"What do you think the twins are doing at the moment?" Celebrian turned to him a few minutes later, already done with eating.

"No doubt they try bullying Glorfindel and Haldir into giving them fighting lessons," Elrond chuckled. "And then they will go behind their backs when Lord Celeborn forbids all fighting."

Celebrian chuckled about his assumption.

"Ah, at least they won't bother Arwen, not with Naneth close by," the beautiful she-elf mused. "But I must admit, as much as I love them, it is nice to know they are bothering their grandparents and Glorfindel instead of us."

The couple continued talking between themselves, leaving Soread to finish his breakfast in peace.

"My Lord?" The wood elf interrupted them softly once he had finished.

Reprehensively, Elrond raised a brow and sighed.

"Do not call me 'my Lord', Soread," he rebuked, this time making his request an order. He could not bear to hear the title out of their guest's mouth as it reminded him of how unlike a lord he had been acting yesterday.

The elf smiled wryly and bowed his head, before asking the question which for he had interrupted them.

"The storm has nearly passed and will most likely die down within the next day. I was wondering for how long I would be welcomed to rest in your house, my … Elrond. There is nothing I could offer in return though and I do not wish to impose."

"Stop right there," Elrond spoke hard and raised his hand. Soread straightened upon hearing the change in the healer's tone. His face morphed into an emotionless mask and his eyes gleamed keenly like that of a bird of prey. Staring at his host with an air of patience, Soread kept his mouth shut and waited for the healer to continue.

"You may stay as long as you like," Celebrian stated in a no-nonsense tone of voice. "You do not impose, on the contrary. I have about a thousand questions I have yet to ask and though Elrond acts all reticent I know he probably has even more. Trust me, if anything, it will be us imposing on you, not the other way around. You may of course always tell us off if something is none of our business, but we will not ask you to leave because of it. Don't be ridiculous."

Soread's face crumbled into utter confusion so quickly, it was hilarious to watch.

"You heard my wife," Elrond spoke drily, shrugging as if he had no say now that his beloved wife had made a decision.

"Are you … I mean … Is this …" The elf stammered, totally caught off guard. He then snapped his mouth shut, his brow furrowing, whether it was in confusion or contemplation, the healer could not tell.

"I might have neglected my role yesterday, but did you truly think so lowly of us, Soread?" Elrond asked, the question half meant as a joke. Apparently, the cartographer did not take it as such for he blushed and lowered his eyes.

"Can you blame me, my Lord? I mean Elrond. Greenwood and Imladris are not exactly on speaking terms."

"That is true, however, it doesn't change the fact that you are most welcome to stay here for as long as you wish," Elrond replied carefully, neither wishing to make Soread believe he had ulterior motives concerning politics, nor wanting his disagreements with King Thranduil influence the possible friendship with this young mapper.

Soread opened his mouth to speak but he remained silent. The relieved slump of his shoulders however told Elrond and Celebrian all too well how glad he was about the words directed at him.

Silence fell over the table. Neither party knew what to say until Soread cleared his throat and asked politely to be excused. He stated he wished to rest and Elrond did not hesitate to allow it. The healer stood and offered to aid the wood elf up the stairs and Soread took the offer with a grateful nod. After telling the cartographer that there would be another meal brought to him in two hours' time, Elrond left his patient to rest.

Deciding to take the day off, Elrond went in search of his wife. Celebrian usually spent her mornings with the elflings residing in the Hidden Valley, teaching them to read and write and taking them horse-riding or for a visit in the forest. Due to the storm however, the school would be closed and she would remain at home, as would many others. Therefore, the healer was not surprised to find several elves scattered across the Hall of Fire, many with a book in hand and a group of elves engrossed in a game of cards.

Spotting his wife immediately – she was easily the most beautiful being in the room, though Elrond admitted he might be a slight bit biased – the tall broad shouldered elf walked over to her, approaching her from behind. Placing his warm hands on her shoulders, he began massaging her. Celebrian sighed and leaned her head back against his stomach. Smiling, she enjoyed his long fingers working on the knots in her neck before she tilted her head up and glanced at him.

"You are taking the day off?" She asked with approval.

"Yes," Elrond replied and bowed down to kiss her brow.

"I could get used to this," Celebrian murmured a few minutes later, leaning into Elrond's side who had moved to sit next to her. The healer did not hesitate and wrap his arm around her shoulder and kissed her inviting lips.

For some time, they sat together in quiet. They hadn't even noticed how little time they had had to themselves in the last few years. Even just sitting in a tight embrace was something they usually did not do with their children around. There was always one child coming up to them with an issue that needed immediate solving and therefore limited loving gestures to their own quarters in the evening before they retired to bed. The current storm provided them with well-deserved time to spend together.

"I like Soread," Celebrian suddenly declared, interrupting Elrond's own deep thoughts about what the aftermath of the storm would bring. He chuckled about his wife's statement.

"Yes, I had noticed," he teased. "If you could, I am sure you would fuss over him all day long as if he were our own child."

The fair she-elf playfully hit Elrond's knee but did not bother moving out of his embrace in her acted anger.

"He is so different as to how I would have imagined a Silvan elf," she instead mused and her husband had to agree. Silvan elves were known for their wildness and Elrond had expected this wildness to seep through Soread's speech as well, rendering it basic and lacking all politeness. Instead, his speech proofed the exact opposite. The elf was always polite to a fault, his sentences refined and he spoke with an underlining respect towards everyone.

Instead, his wildness showed in the way he moved and his posture, both aspects responsible for the clothes he had been wearing today appearing strange on him for they were so obviously of Noldorian made. The wood land clothing he had worn upon his arrival had reflected his wildness better; rough leather and fabrics in green and browns. Also, it was the sharp glance of silver eyes and the feral grin he had sported a few times. It was the fact he was always on edge and paying attention to everything.

The wildness of his people was not obvious, though Elrond doubted not it would be if he ever were to see Soread among his own people or travel under the trees. No, mistaking the Silvans for uncivilized beasts without manners would be a deadly wrong assumption and most likely not only in Soread's case. Traditions and rough training seemed to pronounce their heritage more.

"I agree. He is a very well-spoken young elf. And I have to admire his love for his art and his maps are simply breath-taking. I wish I had maps like his in my collection."

"You could always ask him to draw one for you."

"Maybe I will. But not right now. I do not wish for him to get the impression I only welcome him as a guest because I want something in return," Elrond explained thoughtful.

"Yes, he does seem like someone who would think that. He does have trouble understanding that sometimes help is extended even if there is nothing given in return." Celebrian cuddled closer to her husband, a sudden chill having ran over her back. "I just do not understand why he has left his wood. I have the feeling he is running away from something. There is somethings that he hides. And it hurts him, I can tell. I just do not know what it is."

* * *

 _ **Please review!**_

 **Thanks to my beta(s) SamGreg!**

 **Guest:** I am glad you liked the maps. And I am sorry, I do not think these kinds of maps are available anywhere ;)


	5. 5: Draw a House?

They did not see Soread for lunch but considering the elf had been claiming he wanted to rest, they did not go looking for him. Every two hours a light meal was delivered to his room and therefore the healer had not to worry about his guest's eating habits.

"My lord," an uncertain voice disrupted the quiet atmosphere. Elrond had decided to take the entire day off in favour of spending time with Celebrian. They had taken a seat on the comfortable sofa in the Hall of Fire once again, listening to the soft songs of other elves who had taken the bad weather as a chance to take the day off as well. The storm had yet to die down, though it could only be a matter of a few hours.

Surprised that someone would decide to bother him then he was with his wife in obvious relaxation, Elrond looked up. A nervous looking she-elf was standing a few meters away. She was wringing her hands anxiously. The wise elf recognized her as a young elven maiden who was working in the kitchen under the ever watchful eye of the kitchen chef.

"Jeweth, am I correct?" Elrond guessed, straightening up and withdrawing his arm from behind Celebrian's back as he gave the kitchen maid his full attention.

"Yes, my lord," the she-elf whispered surprised but part of her nervousness vanished and she smiled shyly.

"How can I help you?" The healer encouraged her to speak up. Though she no longer seemed mortified to be disrupting the Lord of Imladris in his free time, she still seemed too uncertain to speak up without prompting.

Now, a different kind of worry appeared on Jeweth's face.

"I … well, I just brought something to eat to your guest, my lord, and … I know, it is not my place but … I just … he seemed so … I probably shouldn't …"

Elrond stopped her rambling by raising a hand. Jeweth blushed and looked down.

"Calm down," the healer spoke gently though he could not stop dread to build up within him. What was wrong with Soread? He had seemed fine in the morning. "What is it you wished to tell me?"

"Your guest, my lord. I think he is not feeling well. He is very pale and looks sick. Maybe you should have a look at him."

The dark haired Noldo leapt to his feet and had already crossed half of the Hall of Fire then he called back: "Thank you, Jeweth!"

He hurried up the stairs, his long legs swiftly carrying him past a few surprised elves who would turn to look after him. Maybe it was because he had been such a bad host on the first day or maybe it was simply because Soread was such a polite and humble elf that Elrond found himself worried about the injured mapper in a more personal way than he would usually be about a patient.

The healer barely stopped to knock before he opened the door leading to the guest chambers he had given to Soread. The moment he stepped in, Soread jumped to his feet from where he was resting in an armchair. One of the long, curved knives that had so far remained in its sheaths attached to the two leather tubes, flew into the wood elf's hand. Instantly, Elrond froze. However, the cartographer's attention did not rest on him but the silver eyes were searching the empty door frame behind him.

"What's wrong?" Soread demanded to know attentively. He was indeed paler than before and seeing a slight sheen of sweat on his brow, Elrond knew why Jeweth had been concerned and turned to him.

"You can lower your weapon, Soread," the Lord of Imladris spoke carefully. A confused look entered the silver eyes but the young elf did as he was told and returned the blank blade into the sheath.

"My lord?" He questioned then.

"How are you feeling?"

Before the elf had a chance to even answer the question, Elrond had stepped up to him and placed a hand against Soread's forehead.

"I am fine," Elrond's guest answered, now sounding very confused though he sat when the healer gently pressed down on his shoulders.

"Are you in pain?"

"Not especially. Nothing I can't bear, my lord."

Since Elrond could not feel a raise in body temperature, he sat down opposite the thoroughly flabbergasted mapper.

"Jeweth - she was the one who brought you your food - came to me with concerns about your health," the Noldo found himself explaining.

Understanding dawned on Soread's face and he let out a dark chuckle. His shoulders, tense since Elrond had so suddenly come into the room, relaxed.

"Ah, yes, I believe I might have frightened her," he admitted. "I apologize for causing you undue worry, my lord."

"She was so shaken I was afraid you were about to die within minutes," Elrond exaggerated with a teasing undertone, attempting to stir attention away from the unusual worry that had raced through his veins. "What did you do?"

"Nothing. I was asleep then she knocked and she woke me from a rather unpleasant nightmare," Soread explained and the easy smile he wore while saying this did not seem to fit his words.

"A nightmare?"

"Not a regular occurrence, I assure you."

Elrond hesitated, unsure if he should even speak up.

"Do you wish to talk about it?" He offered gently.

Soread's eyes flickered over to him and a calculating glance entered them.

"I barely know you, my lord," he said as a way of denying the offer though his sudden seriousness let Elrond know the elf had appreciated the offer.

"Alright," Elrond spoke, understanding his patient's reluctance. It was true after all; they did barely know each other.

"I apologize for storming in the way I did," he continued, raising to his feet.

"My Lord," the cartographer stopped him. "Would you mind keeping me company while I eat?"

"Not at all," the healer replied with slight surprise. He picked up the so far untouched bowl of unsalted, cooked vegetables Jeweth had brought up and handed it together with a spoon to his injured guest.

"Are you ever going to stop calling me 'my lord'?" He then asked and sat down once more. To his amusement, the comment caused Soread to blush.

"Forgive me. I am trying but it is not as easy as you might think. I am afraid I will need many more reminders until I manage to drop this title," the wood elf answered with deep honesty.

Unlike the few meals they had taken together so far, Soread did not eat swiftly with obvious hunger as if though he was afraid to be interrupted but seemed to struggle with the meagre meal. He started conversing with Elrond and the older quickly realised why the cartographer had asked for his company: The long years in solitude had made him almost desperate to talk with others. Elrond began to wonder once more just why Soread had not returned home for a while before continuing his travels. It was all but evident he had missed the company of elves.

Soread remained polite and seemed to hold himself back as to not talk uncontrollably but he was open and visibly enjoyed the conversation. Several times, Elrond had to interrupt him to remind him he should continue to eat. The wood elf struggled with the amount of food and while the Noldo grew increasingly amused, Soread scowled every time he was reminded to continue eating. Only when the elf seemed positively sick did Elrond lean forward and took the almost empty bowl out of the slim hands.

"It's enough. Well done," Elrond smiled.

"Thank the Valar! You are cruelly unrelenting, my lord," Soread sighed relieved.

"Am not," Elrond refuted with a smile. Placing the bowl back on the small table, the healer noticed a piece of soft leather with dark lines drawn on it and a coal pen lying nearby, wrapped into some parchment as to not colour the hand that was holding it than in use.

"May I?" The Lord of Imladris asked curiously, pointing towards the piece of leather.

"Of course. It is just a few lines though."

Picking the soft leather up, at first the Noldo marvelled how nice it felt in his hands. He had always had a weakness for soft leather and the piece in his hands reminded him of his favourite pair of hunting boots, though it was nowhere near as worn.

Looking down at it, Elrond realised that Soread had spoken the truth and the words had not been an embarrassed downplay. There were a few rough lines crisscrossing over the leather, sharp angles mostly, but nothing even remotely similar to the skill of drawing the Noldo had witnessed on the cartographer's maps and secretly expected to see once again.

"What is this?" He asked interested. Somehow he doubted it was just scribbles without any meaning behind them. For that, the lines seemed too deliberate. And Soread did not seem like someone who would draw without having something to show for it in the end.

Soread smirked. "Undistinguishable, is it?" He asked and then stood to sit down next to Elrond on the settee instead of occupying the armchair. "I usually draw landscapes and that is something I can do well but houses or villages always prove as a struggle to me. Maybe I just need more experience though. I attempted to draw this house, my lord, or at least the parts I have seen of it. See, this square is the dining hall, this one the Hall of Fire with the fireplaces here and here. The stairs leading up to the first floor and the Entrance Hall," Soread began explaining and with him pointing it out Elrond could actually distinguish the rooms of his own house.

"I have no idea how to draw the walls though and how to show the differences between windows and actual doors. As I said, I do not usually draw maps of houses. I mean, whatever for? Most houses aren't big enough to even warrant a map of it and even if it is, once you have lived in the house for a few days you won't be needing a map anyway. Therefore, this is more something to pass the time with than actual serious drawing. I had contemplated drawing the valley but I would need to actually see more of it and measure the distances closer. I can't really recall my way here overly well and thanks to the storm the path appeared to be a lot longer than it most likely is."

Amused about his enthusiasm, Elrond smiled.

"Actually, I have several maps of houses if you would like to see them. They might help you with this here, even if it is just, as you said, a little side-project and nothing you wish to pursue further."

"You have? I'd love to see one. I did not know anyone would draw a map of a house. Seems a bit ridiculuous to me if I am completely honest. What do you use them for if I may ask?"

"Actually, I mostly use them for decorative purposes. However, let's see, what else could such a map be useful for? What would happen if we were to be attacked and had to barricade ourselves in this house? It would come in very handy to be able to have a map as it would make it easier to know where the walls are the thickest and to keep an eye on possible escape roots. I have lived in this house for many years but should I suddenly be faced with a situation like that I would welcome a map and not having to trust on my memory and drawing everything up from my imagination alone. You grow so used to your surroundings you do not pay the same attention to them as if they were foreign making you forget things. How does that sound as a reason why maps of houses could be useful?"

Slowly, Soread nodded, a frown once more adoring his noble brow.

"Could we go and have a look on your maps right away?" The elf asked bluntly and reminded Elrond once more he was not speaking with a Noldo who would have confirmed interest only to continue with thanking him. If a Noldo would ask at all, he would ask if Elrond would please be able to show him the maps whenever was the most convinient for him. It was somewhat funny to Elrond to hear such a polite and well-spoken elf ask such blunt questions.

"How is your leg doing?" The healer found himself asking before he agreed.

"My leg is fine. Hurts a bit but nothing to be concerned about."

"Are you certain? Do you maybe want a painkiller?"

"Yes, I am certain. But if you insist, I will take a painkiller," Soread agreed.

The tall, broad-shouldered elf next to the cartographer stood. Leaving the room for a few minutes, he soon returned with a cup of steaming hot tea in his hand with small pieces of widow bark still swimming in it. Handing it to his guest, Elrond sat and while Soread waited for his tea to cool down somewhat and draining the cup, he just enjoyed the luxury of not having any paperwork, appointments or deadlines today.

"Finished," Soread declared as he put his mug down, looking at Elrond expectedly. The Lord of Imladris nodded and stood. Watching how his guest took the two leather tubes and his daggers with him, Elrond held the door open and together they went towards the library. Walking slowly, for Elrond had realised the mapper's interest in the building and the many paintings on the walls, they reached the large sanctuary filled with books only a few minutes later.

There was no surprised sound of awe once they entered, no wide eyes looking around trying to take in the vastness of the room filled with thousands of books. No, Soread of Greenwood showed no interest whatsoever in the knowledge stored here.

"My people do not care for books, my lord," Soread smiled, apparently having noticed Elrond's slight dissappointment. "We learn through the spoken word of our elders. I can read and write - as does every soldier of the Realm - but I do not like either. I do not mind drawing, obviously, but that is something different. Most Silvans outright despise reading and writing. The king is very gracious and allows Silvans to give their reports directly instead of writing them as often as he is able to grant this relief. I know Greenwood has a vast library but I have never even entered it. Therefore, if you are looking for someone who can appreciate your library, I am the wrong elf."

"I am that transparent?" Elrond huffed good-naturedly. "The maps are in the last section."

Snickering slightly about his host's comment, Soread followed the strong leader of the village in the Hidden Valley.

In the last corner stood a tall and wide storage rack filled to the brim with long rolls of parchment, thin leather, pressed leaves and bark, flat sheets of paper filed together with large leaves. Now, he had caught the cartographer's interest, Elrond noticed, sending a mental note to himself to make sure Soread would sit down as soon as he had some maps to look at.

Being accustomed to the overwhelming amount of sheets, Elrond did not need long to find what he was looking for. He pulled a map of Minas Anor and another of Minas Ithil from the Gondor section and another one of Gondor's capital Osgiliath from the shelves. Realising that while these were maps of cities, they were not exactly maps of single houses, he returned the maps of Minas Anor and Minas Ithil back into the shelf and instead reached for a map of Meduseld, the Golden Hall of Edoras in Rohan. Also, he found a map of the large Council Flet of Caras Galadhon, which obviously wasn't a house per se, but it would do.

Gesturing Soread to follow, he walked to a seating area and placed the three maps on the table. The young elf needed no further encouragement and placed his leather tubes next to him as he sat down, reaching for the firm parchment. If he even noticed Elrond left the library to walk down into the guest house where the healer found a framed map of the own house hanging at the wall, Soread did not react to it. The old elf took the framed map off the wall and then returned to find his guest leaning over the drawings, keen silver eyes searching the parchment as if he could figure out all its secrets by just staring at it.

"What do you think?" Elrond asked, sitting down opposite. Flinching, Soread looked up and relaxed upon seeing the kind eyes of his host resting on him.

"These are helpful. I have an idea now, though I am confident I can do better than these. No offence."

"None taken. You are a lot more skilled then the artists who drew these. It would surprise me were you unable to surpass them." To Elrond's amusement, Soread blushed slightly. While the young elf was very confident in his skill, he still was unable to hear that from other people. "Don't tell me noone has ever told you how breathtakingly good your maps are?" Elrond teased.

"Not the way you insist on doing, my lord. The king has said they are acceptable work, my master has told me there is nothing he can teach me anymore and my siblings claim they are 'fancy enough'," Soread smiled weakly.

"Oh, well, I disagree. Though I have never seen maps like yours before," the healer found himself saying.

It was almost an hour later when they were first disturbed in their quiet discussions. Soread had asked for his host's opinion on a few ideas and on which of the styles shown by the different maps he liked best and Elrond had loved the highly professional and intellectual way the young elf discussed his art.

"Here you are! I have been looking for you. You had me worried something happened" Celebrian objurgated.

"I apologize, my love," Elrond was quick to say, standing and approaching his angry wife. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her close and swiftly kissed her lips, knowing she was never able to stay angry when he did that.

Soread had stood upon noticing her and was now biting his lip and looking intensely out of the window, feeling quite awkward.

"Excuse my husband, Soread," Celebrian smiled amusedly and pushed said elf away from her. "He does not know how to behave."

"It seems I have both worried you and your husband today, my lady. Forgive me. Neither has been my intention and I am sorry I caused undue worry twice in just one day. I should not have dragged -"

"Shush," Celebrian ordered, waving Soread's apologies away. "What about dinner and you can tell me what the two of you have been up to?"

Nodding, the cartographer made to tidy the small table, though truly, there was nothing much on it to tidy, but he was once again stopped by the Lady of Imladris telling him to simply leave it where it was.

Making use of Lady Celebrian's support on his way down the stairs, Soread followed the couple to the dining room once more.

After a light meal during which his hosts' had once more to remind him to continue eating every now and then – unlike the day before he had had several meals throughtout the day and was still quite full from his last meal – he returned to the chambers provided to him. It was with a smile on his lips that Soread fell asleep this night, feeling not just safe but happy as well in the Hidden Valley of Imladris.

* * *

 _ **Please review!**_

 **Thanks to my beta(s) SamGreg!**

 **Guest#1:** His skill would certainly be most welcome to google :D


	6. 6: A Silvan's Letter

The storm had completely quietened down. After his free day yesterday, Elrond had returned to his study to tackle the paperwork that started filing in this morning. Due to the storm, there were several repairs that needed to be made. A few trees had succumbed to the strength of the wind and a house had caught fire when it was hit by lightning. Luckily though, the owners had been staying at a friend's house deeper in the city and though their home had almost burned down completely, no one had been harmed.

He had gotten up early in the morning, kissing his wife's temple before he had slipped out of their bedroom to get ready for the day. He had gone to his study, lighting the candles as it had still been dark outside. While he worked, the sun rose, casting great beauty over the wet land and the noise of a few birds that had stayed in Imladris over the winter had lightened Elrond's heart. Just as he opened his window to allow the fresh, chilly air to stream into his study, he was interrupted by an elven maiden with a broken arm who had come to ask for his aid.

Making his way to the healing ward, he quickly took care of the injury. Soon after he had treated her, several more elves came, bearing injuries caused by the storm. Though most had been taken care of, the elves wished for the greatest healer in the village to have a second look and Elrond followed their requests without hesitation.

He did not care that he missed breakfast and instead just went to get some food from the kitchens as soon as he was finished in the healing ward. He quickly checked up on Soread, replacing the bandages and applying fresh salve as well as passing him several herbs for a pain reliever should the cartographer need one.

Placing his plate of food on a thick stack of parchments, he settled back in his tall chair behind his desk. Sighing, he reached for a folded piece of parchment and quickly opened it, focusing on the slanted words written with black ink.

 _I am still angry with you_ , he read and blinked in surprise. He did not recognize the handwriting, sharp and leaning to the right side. Grey eyes wandered down to catch the signature but he only grew more confused: The letter was signed with 'your son' followed by a large D intertwined with an S. It was definitely neither Elladan's nor Elrohir's handwriting or signature and as long as Celebrian was not keeping a massive secret from him, the twins were the only sons he had. His brow furrowed and he continued to read with more interest.

 _I do not think I can ever forgive you for that decision. We have not been seeing eye to eye for a long time and we disagree on almost everything. I am sick of the yelling, of the fights, the accusations thrown around. Our home used to be peaceful but now I can't stay there even for just a single day without hearing you argue with my siblings or me. And no, I am not claiming I am an innocent bystander, I know I am not without fault but neither are you, Ada. However, you well know it has been your newest revelation that has driven me away. I cannot understand. And I cannot forgive. With my reaction and my flight, I have not only hurt you and my siblings but I have also managed to make you want me to stay away. I tried to understand you, I really did, but I cannot. And as much as my heart yearns to return to the forest I call home, it is my fear to once again having to engage in argumentsthat prevents me from returning, that keeps me a traveller of foreign lands. A fear to no longer be welcomed. I feel lonely and that what I should hold most dear is what keeps me lonely. When did my family become something to fear? I do not know._

 _You know how much I dislike writing. And yet, I had to write this letter. I ask you if you can forgive me knowing I am unable to return the sentiment. If I may return home, I shall hold my opinion to myself as to prevent an argument. I just want to return home and be it for one day, not feel lonely. I miss you, Ada, I miss you Nana. And I would like to think you miss me too. Please, allow me to return home for I do not know how long I will be able to continue my travels without the insurance of having a safe haven to return to. I feel broken, lost like a leaf in the wind._

 _Your son_

 _DS_

The content of the letter told Elrond all he needed to know about who the author was. He put the letter down and began massaging his temples, feeling a sudden headache overwhelm him. Soread had written this plea to his parents but apparently had not had the courage to send it. It explained the loneliness the elf radiated, the eagerness to interact and the sadness whenever he was asked about his family. Though Elrond still knew nothing about why the cartographer and his parents had been fighting, it was what had caused Soread to stray away. It answered Elrond's own question as to why the traveller had never returned home and why he had chosen to travel the dark land of Mordor of all places.

While many of his questions had been answered, Elrond now stood before a new problem: He should have never read that letter. It was so deeply personal, the healer felt his bad conscience already overwhelm him. He would not even have unfolded the parchment had he known it belonged to his guest. With no signature he could recognize, he had been blind to the infraction of trust he had committed by reading the letter.

He would have to tell Soread. How in the name of the Valar should he tell the elf he had violated his privacy? While the elf had stayed perfectly polite and content to interact, Elrond had still noticed the fact that the mapper did not fully trust him, which was of course fair enough seeing as they had only known each other for a few days. Still, it hurt Elrond to think that while Soread might be angry and feeling betrayed, he would most likely not be fully surprised. How should he tell him? It pained the healer to think the elf would come to actively distrust him. He had never had any intention of reading a letter by the cartographer's hand.

Massaging his temples, the headache was fast approaching and even the sun outside his window would not help, nor would the fresh air wafting through the opening.

For one moment, the tall elf lord questioned how the letter had ended up on his desk in the first place. But then Elrond saw himself replacing Soread's map in the leather tube and shortly after picking up a piece of parchment he had thought belonged to him and placing it on his desk.

"Valar help me," Elrond murmured. He had no idea, what to do. Standing and folding the letter, he left his study. He needed Celebrian's advice.

* * *

By the time Soread arrived for lunch, Elrond's nerves were frayed. He wanted to get the issue out of the way or better yet, avoid it altogether. Reading the letter, it was now clear why the elf stiffened and saddened every time he mentioned his home. Somehow, Elrond doubted that Soread would appreciate his inner struggles to be known.

Celebrian placed a comforting hand atop of his, smiling encouragingly at him.

Elrond saw his expectations confirmed that his guest would immediately noticed his tenseness. Once more, Soread's face smoothed over to an impassive façade.

"Is something the problem, my lord?", the elf asked sharply and hesitantly slid into his accustomed seat opposite the couple.

"I am once more in a position where I have to apologize, Soread, and ask for your forgiveness," Elrond spoke, taking care not to hurry the words out but remain calm. Still, he felt uncomfortable to feel the mapper's silver eyes rest on him.

"I am unaware of any transgressions you might have committed, my lord," Soread implied a question.

"I assure you, it did not happen with intent. Had I known it belonged to you, I would have returned it to you immediately without so much as a second glance. Alas, I did not know."

The expected outrage did not occur. Surprised, Elrond looked up, only to face the cartographer's still impassive features.

"You have yet to tell me what you are talking about, my lord," the greenwood elf reminded him politely and the elf lord came to realise he had only referred to the private letter as 'it'.

"When I returned your map into the tube in my study, this must have fallen out," Elrond explained slowly, placing the letter on the table between him and his guest. "I assumed it belonged to me and put it on my desk. When I read it this morning –," he did not get any further.

"How dare you?" The cartographer hissed, jumping to his feet and sending his chair flying to the ground. He leaned forward and grasped the letter, his eyes seething with unaltered anger. His fury was all but evident even though he did not voice it as loudly as Elrond had expected. "This was nothing for you to poke you nosy nose in, Elrond! Can you not just stay away!" He even dropped the 'my lord' that always carried in his speech.

"I meant no disrespect. Had I known the letter belonged to you, I would not –," Elrond spoke, raising his hands in a defensive manner, suddenly apprehensive of the young elf in front of him.

"May I be excused? I have lost my appetite," Soread interrupted, biting the words out between his teeth, his voice shaking. Not waiting for a permission, the cartographer abruptly pushed himself away from the table and strode out of the room

"That did not go well," Elrond pondered with a frown, pushing his plate away from himself. He too had lost his appetite. He pressed his forefinger and thumb against the bridge of his nose, breathing out deeply.

"He will calm down," Celebrian attempted to sooth though she did not sound as convincing as she without a doubt wanted to sound.

"I am not sure about that. Soread does not strike me as someone who forgives quickly. Apparently, all of Greenwood's people are a resentful bunch." The elf was frustrated. He liked Soread and he had been able to see the hurt underneath the layer of anger, the hurt of someone who felt betrayed by a person he had trusted.

Crumbling a napkin in his right hand, the healer proceeded to throw the piece of soft tissue away from himself across the table. Looking around the room with his brows drawn together, he saw that all the elves already present were doing their best to not look in his direction, having followed and yet ignored the earlier argument.

The thought occurred to Elrond, that Soread might leave Imladris right away. Thinking of the mapper's injured leg, he knew that could easily end badly. The wound was infected after all and though it had looked better when he had checked it this morning, no doubt aggravating the leg would not help. For the elf's sake, the healer prayed to the Valar that the cartographer would at least stay a few more days, even if reluctantly only.

The door opened and Erestor poked his head in. His eyes quickly scanned the room, coming to rest on the married couple. Broken from dark thoughts, the two expected the advisor to join them at the table.

"Elrond!" Erestor spoke in serious tone and jerked his head before he vanished from the door. Taken aback by the rather unusual behaviour, Elrond exchanged a frown with Celebrian who seemed as surprised as he did before he stood and hurried after his old friend, wondering what was going on.

He strode through the Hall of Fire which remained empty at this time in the day. Stepping through the door into the Entrance Hall, he understood why Erestor had summoned him: Soread sat on the stone floor, leaning against the wall. His injured leg was outstretched, his right, unharmed leg bent and drawn to his chest. The dark-haired advisor was squatting next to him, a hand on the elf's shoulder. Elrond could see pain etched into Soread's features and he heard the slight strain on his low voice as he spoke with Erestor.

Slowly, the old elf approached the pair. Soread looked up and the guilt was clearly visible in his face, having erased all signs of previous anger.

"My lord," the wood elf spoke softly, hesitating to meet Elrond's gaze. His hands gripped the crunched-up letter in anxiousness.

Elrond squatted down next to them. Feeling Erestor's questioning gaze on him, he put a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Thank you for getting me, mellon-nin. You may go."

Nodding gratefully, Erestor picked up his books which he had placed on the floor, stood and took his work towards the council hall.

Meanwhile, Elrond ignored his guest's tense posture and the fact that Soread would not meet his eyes.

"What happened, Soread?" He asked and put all his gentleness in his voice to make clear he was not angry at the young elf.

"My leg refused to carry my weight any longer, my lord," Soread replied softly, still avoiding looking anywhere near the healer.

"Would you allow me to have a look, please?" Elrond continued with a soft voice, feeling as if though he was attempting to sooth an injured, wild animal that had somehow ended up in his Entrance Hall. Somehow, the sudden vulnerability in the young elf was not entirely unexpected. Soread had spent years in solitude and it had made him desperate for contact with his kin. That was something the healer had noticed before. Now, after being emotionally hurt by his host and losing control over his temper, the elf clearly feared to be thrown out. Elrond found himself thinking about the letter in the elf's hand. This fear to be thrown out was what had caused him to travel Middle-Earth for decades without returning home. Instead, he had chosen to travel Mordor of all places. Years spent in a wasteland with only the spirits of the dead for company.

Soread nodded minutely. The healer felt the silver eyes resting on his hands as he took off the boot and gently pushed the trouser leg up Soread's leg. His patient choked down a grunt and Elrond looked up, drawing in brows together. It was clear the elf was in quite a bit of pain.

"Why did you not tell me your leg was hurting? I could have at very least given you a painkiller," Elrond rebuked harsher than he had intended.

Soread gripped the letter harder and his knuckles were shining widely. Seeing how his jaw muscles tightened, Elrond could tell the elf was fighting with himself whether to answer or not. Apparently, he made up his mind, because he looked away and mumbled: "I was going to."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, the healer sighed, realising he could hardly blame the hurting elf for forgetting to ask for a simple painkiller in his anger.

"I am sorry, Soread," he said. Before the cartographer could react in any way, Elrond stood. "Stay where you are. I will just go and get a painkiller and fresh bandages."

Quickly ascending the stairs, he stopped a passing elf and asked him to get Celebrian to sit with Soread while he gathered the healing supplies and a blanket. He had no desire to move the cartographer who could not stand on his own right now but the cold stone floor was hardly a comfortable place to sit on while waiting for the pain reliever to kick in.

Returning to the Entrance Hall just minutes later with his supplies gathered in his arms, Celebrian's kind eyes immediately found his. Their guest was refusing to look either of them in the eye and his very conscious breaths proved that the pain was getting stronger as well.

While the healer set everything carefully on the floor, Celebrian handed Soread the thick blanket to sit on. A suppressed whimper was heard when Soread shifted.

Wordlessly, Elrond placed a steaming cup of tea next to Soread within easy reach and set to work, ignoring the uncomfortable silence and the tense atmosphere. In the back of his mind he could hear Celebrian sing softly a distant song about the beauty of autumn leaves.

The infection had grown worse and Soread's leg was swollen and irritated. It would not have surprised anyone that the wood elf had been in pain. Spreading a crème over the wound which contained a strong local anaesthetic, the Lord of Imladris wrapped fresh bandages around the leg afterwards and then sat back on his heels. Cleaning his hands on a wet towel, he looked at Soread.

The elf had leant his head back against the wall, his hand was still clawing on that letter and his jaw muscles tightened and loosened. As if he felt Elrond's eyes on him, the cartographer lifted his head, only to let it fall back against the wall. He repeated the gesture a second time, this time more forcefully and the third time was so strong that the healer grew worried. Then Soread lifted his head once more and Elrond was quick to put his hand behind the silver head, only to have said head crush painfully against his hand a second later. That had definitely hurt his hand! Yet the healer did not pull back but remained as he was.

The mapper's eyes shot open and for the first time since Elrond had joined the traveller in the Entrance Hall, the cartographer looked directly at his host. The silver orbs were shining with unshed tears. Elrond found himself speechless, for what was where he could possibly tell this young elf?

"Why do you keep doing this?" Soread asked, sounding tortured, nearly begging for an answer.

"Why do I keep doing what?"

"Why do you still help me? I just yelled in your face, accused you of misusing my trust, insulted your honour and threw back at you everything you have offered me so freely before. And yet here you are to help me. I do not understand!" The elf sounded as if everything was getting too much for him. Looking away, Soread blinked a few tears away before they could fall.

For a long moment, Elrond could only stare at the young elf before him. He had seen the proof of the long loneliness yet Soread's polite and strong attitude had fooled him to believe he had not suffered under it. The cartographer knew his way, but despite this he had grown completely unaccustomed to gifts being freely given. His had run from his own family, preferring Mordor over facing them. He had grown unused to a helping hand and that hurt Elrond to realise.

"I do not know who Greenwood makes me out to be," the healer spoke slowly, "but this is who I am. I help people. And I do not give up easily. You shall have to do a lot more than just yell at me to have me dislike you and I am quite certain you could never manage to make me refuse you help. Furthermore; You had every right to be angry at me for I should never have read that letter of yours," Elrond nodded towards the paper in Soread's hand and the elf, who had turned back to face him once he had started talking, moved his hand to his side, as if though to hide the private letter from preying eyes. "I would not have read it had I known it belonged to you, Soread, and I am deeply sorry for invading your privacy like that. I apologize and hope you will forgive me. But do not think I will ever refuse you help should you not."

Slowly this time, Soread let his head fall back against Elrond's hand which was still cushioning the wall. He closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath. Silence reigned for a long moment while both elder elves watched their young charge. Carefully, the healer retracted his hand. Then he placed it on the elf's shoulder for a short moment.

"I will go and get some crutches for you. Do not get up in the meanwhile."

Straightening quickly, Elrond went to get the crutches.

Celebrian settled against the wall next to the young elf.

"He really did not mean to read that letter," she said quietly, feeling disheartened by her husband's guilt.

There was no answer and the fair lady had already given up when Soread mumbled softly under his breath: "Did you read it too?" He sounded so devastated and tired, Celebrian simply reached for his hand and squeezed it.

"No, I did not. And Elrond did not tell me what was in it either. He did, however, come to me for advice. I thought you would appreciate being told directly the most, even though there obviously was no easy way to tell you. He feels guilty about it, mellon-nin."

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 _ **Please review!**_

 **Thanks to my beta(s) SamGreg!**


	7. 7: The Healer's Advice

With the aid of the crutches the lord of Imladris had brought, Elrond had Soread return to the Hall of Fire. The young elf stayed completely silent and still avoided any eye contact. His pallor was paled but the pain had receded enough for him not to wince as he moved, yet it would take longer still for the herbal tea to fully kick in.

Without either of them noticing, lunch time had passed and it was Celebrian who wordlessly left her husband's and her guest's side to go down into the kitchens and ask for some lunch; their plates already having been cleaned away.

She came back to see the two elves sitting awkwardly together. Soread had still not let go of his letter and his hand was clutching to it with white knuckles. He stared on his knee and his face was carefully blank. Meanwhile, Elrond was visibly uncomfortable. Apparently, he could not decide whether to stay at Soread's side who pretended he wasn't even there or if he should simply leave and give the wood elf some time to think.

"Yes, my Lady," Soread replied evenly once Celebrian demanded he ate something. The atmosphere relaxed only marginally and the cartographer seemed to be deep in thought only taking small, very deliberate bites while his letter remained clutched in his left hand. Celebrian was beginning to wonder just what could be so important to their young guest.

"Lord Elrond?" The traveller raised his voice after a few silent minutes. He sounded hesitant as if he had to force himself to speak.

"Yes?" Elrond asked with dark surprise.

"Would you mind helping me back to my room, my lord?"

Elrond exchanged a quick glance with Celebrian. They both noticed that in truth Soread was asking the healer for some time alone to converse. Guessing it had to be about the letter, the Lord of Imladris quickly stood and agreed. Soread rose and expertly used the crutches to move without putting weight on his injured leg. Behind his guest's back, Elrond reached out to grasp Celebrian's hand for a second to reassure himself before he followed the thin figure of the wood elf.

Elrond lowered himself onto the same settee he had occupied the day before. Soread sat down in the armchair opposite and put the crutches away. And then he just sat there quietly, not speaking a word. Still, the healer felt that the cartographer did not want him to leave and therefore, he stayed. His eyes, kind as summer, watched the young silver haired elf who now carefully flattened the letter that had been scrunched up in his hand.

"You've read it," he finally said, his voice so soft Elrond nearly missed it. The wood elf's attention was trained firmly on the piece of parchment, staring at the words he had written himself.

"I did," was all that the elder elf replied, waiting patiently for his guest to continue.

"I …" Soread cleared his throat. His jaw muscles were working once more as he struggled with words. Then, after several minutes, he finally looked up. "What do you think?", he asked softly, and the seriousness and fear shone from his entire posture.

Thinking carefully, Elrond straightened in his seat. Leaning forward and looking for the right words so that he would not drive his charge away once more, the healer looked into silver eyes. It surprised him that Soread would actually seek his advice. He had thought he had lost the traveller's trust by reading the letter. Yet, it seemed the issue was weighing too great on Soread's soul for him to ignore it.

"I think," Elrond spoke slowly and with the calmness of a healer, "that you should go home."

The Noldo did not know what Soread's parents had done to drive him out as nothing in the letter had hinted at the actual reason. Normally, the wise elf would have waited to learn more before coming to a conclusion. However, being away from his family tore the wood elf apart. No matter what crime his family had committed, his young guest needed them.

Soread searched Elrond's face for a while, before looking down once more. He clearly wasn't convinced, not that the Noldo had expected him to be.

"Soread, what did your parents do to cause such anger and hurt in you?" The healer asked softly.

"They had another child," Soread admitted with a mixture of bitterness and sadness colouring his voice.

With his answer, he managed to surprise Elrond completely. For whatever he had expected: That was not it. Elrond had prepared himself to hear of kin-slaughter or of betrayal to King Thranduil. Had prepared himself to abuse or abandonment of duties. Not of a couple having another child.

Thoughtfully, the healer leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees, his long elegant fingers pressed together and held against his chin. He was careful to not let any of his surprise show on his face. To Soread, his parents having another child was a big issue. Brushing it aside or showing disbelief would not help the elf who had decided to confide in him.

"Why does that hurt you so much?" Elrond asked in the softest voice he could master.

"It doesn't hurt me!" Soread snapped back immediately after the words had left the healer's mouth. The silver eyes were flashing and there was a snarl on the normally so well-schooled face.

Elrond waited and sure enough, Soread sighed after only a few seconds, lowering his head.

"Forgive me, my lord," he murmured, fidgeting in his seat in a fashion very unlike the sure traveller the world had shaped him to be. He sighed once more, brushing the long silver locks behind his ear and without noticing shifted to sit in the same position as the healer in front of him did.

"You are right, it does hurt me," he continued more calmly. "But more than that, it makes me angry, for they have not considered what they force upon that child. You may have not seen Greenwood in many years, yet I assume the last visit from our King to Imladris has shown you that the wood is darkening. Short was the reprieve we received after the War of the Last Alliance. Already, we have younglings fight underneath our boughs, fight because their life is threatened if they do not learn how to defend themselves. And my parents have decided to place an innocent child in a world that will strive for cruelty. How could they do that? Why would they force a child to live through times such as these?"

"Not all children are planned, Soread," Elrond spoke carefully, his voice ringing softly like a gentle song being carried by a warm summer wind; not wishing to disturb his guest's openness.

"You know not my parents, my lord. My father plans ahead for centuries. Accidents do not happen, not to him. No matter what kind. For him to sire a child, he must have truly wanted one. My baby brother was not alone the result of a lustful night; he is a child they had wished to conceive."

"So is it your brother you run from, Soread? Is he the reason why you have avoided your home for so many years now?" Elrond asked

"My brother," Soread answered slowly, as if he thought about his words in careful consideration. "There is my oldest brother, Ronacla. He is strong where I am weak; harsh where I am gentle; determined where I am thoughtful and with a quick temper where I stay unconcerned. In return, he does not understand my love for maps, though responsible as he feels he will ask time and time again about the progress I have made, just like he used to bother me with my lessons as a child when I had already done my studying. We are not very much alike and though I still love him greatly, there is not much we can talk about for we rarely agree. No, it is Nehara who I am closest with, for he is not only my brother but my best friend as well, knowing my thoughts before even I understand them. I miss him greatly and it has been many years since I last saw him. It awakens guilt inside of me to think I have abandoned Greenwood alongside him. But neither is it Nehara who I am fleeing from. Instead, it is my baby brother, born long after the rest of us, a tiny child when we have grown into adulthood. My older brother … Ronacla was not happy to have another sibling so much younger than himself that he could be his own son. And he is angered with our parents, as they should not have placed another innocent life in this cruel world, with the shadow closing in on Greenwood, threatening our borders. One so young will never see what peace is because he shall grow up in a world of warfare, unbefitting of a little child."

The elf was rambling. Something that somehow amused his attentive listener even though Elrond knew of the severity of their conversation.

"So why do you flee your baby brother?", Elrond repeated his question as Soread's words had yet to give an answer.

"Ai, I do not. I flee the conflicts he has brought upon our family, driving us apart in anger and in endless dispute. My father and my older brother cannot agree on anything since after he was conceived, their controversy not only affecting our family, but many others as well. And this controversy is not a simply tryst but has endangered our lives already. My other siblings have left our home to not return, the same way I have. His birth might have only been the straw to break the camel's back but it has caused an anger in all of us we cannot ignore. It is not he himself but what he represents that I scorn and it pains me greatly as my heart knows I should love and cherish him. I am so, unbelievably angry at my parents."

The healer had listened intently to Soread's pained words. The elf sighed and appeared relieved to have talked about what weighed down on his soul so heavily. The anger he must feel for his parents had twisted his fair face as he spoke and yet Elrond could still see the guilt the elf felt for feeling the way he did. The healer could not recall seeing an elf as torn as his young friend and he felt sorry for him.

"What is his name?" The lord of Imladris asked gently. At Soread's blank face he elaborated. "Your baby brother. What is his name?"

Pain crossed Soread's features and he looked away. For several moments, he stared out of the window and Elrond was about to forget he asked when the cartographer suddenly answered.

"I don't know." His voices sounded tortured.

"Soread … how can you not know? He is your brother. Even if you don't like him you must know his name?" Elrond asked confused with what he should do with that answer. The mapper looked back at him and his silver eyes mirrored what he had heard in Soread's voice earlier; a deep agony.

"No, I don't know. I don't even know his name." The wood elf paused, biting his lip and lowering his eyes. "I … I returned home when he was born. That was twelve years ago, just before I left for Mordor. He was such a tiny thing. My parents had not yet named him. So no, I do not know his name; I have not returned to Greenwood since that day. I left as soon as I saw him, not willing to partake in the agony of what will be his life."

Elrond frowned, not liking the phrasing his guest was using. It was as if the elf had already given up on the child, as if his baby brother was already sentenced to die young and painfully and as if the elf was unwilling to even attempt to spare the child such fate.

"Why do you sentence your brother to a life of agony? You abandon him without a helping hand. Are you not harming him more with that inner sentence? If you already give him up, you take him the chances of the world. Are you so afraid?"

"I am not afraid!" Soread yelled and jumped to his feet so quickly Elrond leaned back on instinct.

The silver eyes were an furious storm, Soread's hands curled into angry fists. He was breathing heavily and staring down at the still seated elven lord. Elrond, in turn, only raised a surprised brow. He had not thought this calm elf capable of such a temper, nor the anger and might behind the calm façade. Yet, it seemed this topic was one causing deep emotions in the elf. So far, nothing else had startled the cartographer as much as the conversations they had had this day, nothing had been able to touch him. Now, even the slightest indication of weakness caused his calmness to shatter into millions of pieces.

Furthermore, Soread's anger proved something else: Despite miming the solitary and calm cartographer, this elf was a warrior in his own right and suddenly the weapons attached to his hip and the leather chest belt leaning beside the table appeared in a different light. The mapper had gone through military training and only because he had found love in the smell of parchment and ink, preferring drawing the most beautiful maps Elrond had ever seen to the horrors of fighting, that training was not lost on the wood elf.

"Listen carefully, Lord Elrond," Soread whispered evenly and so softly, even Elrond's sharp elven ears almost did not pick it up. The wood elf's silver eyes betrayed that none of his anger had diminished and his quiet voice only underlined the feeling of danger enveloping the elf. The healer stood and faced Soread openly. Without really meaning to, Elrond's fea began shining a slight bit brighter, trying to battle the darkness in his guest's mood, trying to lighten and heal, just as it always did. As a healer, he had learned to heal both the wounds of the body and the wounds of the mind. His fea brightening without him meaning to showed just how deep Soread's pain was.

The slight brightening was enough for the angered traveller to turn his head, avoiding the light. The anger drained from his stance and he turned away fully, walking over to the window where he stopped and stared out, taking in the courtyard and the wood beyond without really seeing either.

"Your light does not impress me, my Lord," he spoke softly after some time, his voice barely above a whisper once more. His mood changed quicker than the ocean's tide. "Not as much as your kindness has or your willingness to help a stranger with his struggles and the burdens he has loaded on himself. I apologize for my anger. It was not right of me and I should never have directed it towards you. You were only speaking truths I did not wish to hear. I shall gather my things and leave within the hour, should you so wish. I do not know why I behave as rudely as I do. I should know better." While he spoke, his shoulders slumped and he hang his head so slightly, it could only be an unconscious gesture.

"Sit down, mellon-nin. I am not throwing you out simply because you were angered with me."

Soread followed the gestured and Elrond sat down again as well. For long minutes, he only examined Soread's fair yet saddened face.

"Go home, mellon-nin," he spoke after that.

"Go home? How can I return home? Nay, I shall travel Eriandor and draw my maps." The silver locks brushed over tense shoulders as the cartographer shook his head in denial. Resignation shone in his defeated posture.

"Is that not what your heart tells you to do? If you want my advice, Soread of Greenwood, you should return home. Find out your baby brother's name. Be a part of his life, the older brother your heart yearns for you to be. Talk to your Ada and Nana. I am sure they miss you."

"You do not know my father," Soread barked a bitter laugh. "He is as stubborn as they come. He will not forgive me for how I left. I am not welcome anymore at their house."

"How do you know?"

"Nehara told me of his anger. He, too, has left as soon as he could, though he sometimes returns for our parent's sake."

Elrond sighed deeply. The feeling that he was unable to reach his guest was both disappointing and saddening. Still, if the healer was known for one thing it was his patience. Furthermore, he had come to like Soread and to see him in need of aid was reason enough for the lord to attempt to reach the young elf once more.

"I have two sons, Elladan and Elrohir. They are with their grandparents at the moment," Elrond spoke, holding the silver eyes in the spell of his own brown ones. "I am angry at them a lot. Sometimes than they are not even there. They can wreck incredible havoc and often choose to do so just before they leave, knowing fully well I can't yell at them if they are not here. I will be so angry at them, swearing that they will get to hear the worst lecture they ever had the misfortune to receive. And yet, the truth is that I miss them terribly. Even if I am happy to be rid of them for a few weeks. Do you know what the first thing will be that I'll do when they get back? I will embrace them and all my anger will turn into relieve to know them back here with me in safety."

Silence broke between the pair once more until Soread frowned and turned his eyes away.

"I doubt my father will react in a similar fashion," the elf said with rough voice.

"Oh, for the Valar's sake!" Elrond cried out exasperated and lunged forward. Swiftly pulling the elf to sit next to him instead of opposite, he embraced the cartographer. He ignored the stiffening that went through Soread's body and instead just held onto him. Soread had grown so unaccustomed to anyone who cared that he had not even expected to be given food, therefore his reaction to comfort in form of a hug was no surprise. And yet Elrond knew that this was what the elf needed, craved even. If the mapper did not allow himself to see that he wished to go home, Elrond would make him see.

Slowly, painfully slowly, Soread relaxed. Elrond could hear his guest's breathing deepening as the elf slumped against him. Then, a shiver rippled through the lithe figure and the healer was quick to tighten his embrace, raising a hand to brush through the silver locks. Hesitantly, arms snaked around Elrond's torso, slowly as if expecting to be pushed away. Then, said arms tightened and Soread finally gave into the hug. The shivering became more pronounced until it suddenly stopped. For a few minutes, the cartographer stayed in the embrace before he carefully pulled back.

"Thank you, my lord," he smiled softly, appearing a lot more stable than before.

Elrond raised a dark brow: "I won't manage to make you stop calling me that, will I?"

Soread chuckled and shook his head with a soft regret. "Nay, you probably won't."

The healer mock glared at the elf, before becoming serious again. "Feeling better?"

"Yes, I do. It has been a long time since … Well, you know." The mirth vanished from the silver eyes as Soread leaned forward to pick up the crumbled letter that had fallen onto the table, once more trying to straighten it out without much success. "I thank you for your advice, my lord. I will think about it. Though I do not yet know where to find the courage to do as you advised."

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 _ **Please review!**_

 **Thanks to my beta(s) SamGreg!**


	8. 8: All I Can Offer

Elrond woke without transition. His kind brown eyes, at one moment glanced over with elvish sleep, focused. Frowning, the elf shifted and he felt Celebrian detangle herself from his arms and sit up as well. Before he could ask her what had woken them, a soft knock against their bedroom door called his attention to the reason.

"I'll take it," he said gently to his wife before he quickly stood. There were only a few reasons why someone would knock at his bedroom door at this time of the night. None of them would allow him to ignore it. Moving around the bed, he pushed his long hair behind his ears before arriving at the sturdy wooden door. He opened it and barely reacted quick enough to catch the figure falling towards him, being bereft of the support the closed door had offered. Silver hair shone in the dark and alerted Elrond to who his late-night visitor was: There was no Noldor in Rivendell with light hair and even the hair of the few Sindar living in the Hidden Valley, such as the absent balrog-slayer Glorfindel, was several shades darker.

"Soread," he called out in surprise. He could feel the elf attempting to straighten and free himself from Elrond's supportive arms, but the healer was having none of it and instead quickly directed the cartographer back into the living room, helping him to settle on the couch.

"Forgive my intrusion, my Lord," a soft, deeply embarrassed voice rang through the darkness, "I did not wish to disturb you at this time."

"Hush!" The Noldo ordered quickly, already having felt the heat radiating from the mapper. Soread had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and yet he was still shaking and huddling into himself as if though he was incredibly cold.

"Since when do you have a fever?" Elrond demanded to know, moving around the living room to light candles. Celebrian joined them, her long hair open and falling over her shoulders down to her waist. She took the kindling out of Elrond's hands.

"Take care of him," she demanded instead, nodding towards the shivering wood elf who had not looked up to look at her. Soread appeared embarrassed for having disturbed his hosts, yet Elrond was very glad about it for the cartographer actively asking for help was more than he had truthfully expected from his young guest.

"I don't know," Soread replied to the Noldo's earlier question. "I had a headache yesterday evening but I thought it was because I had … because I was … upset. I felt a bit cold but I just took an extra blanket and went to sleep early."

"Alright," Elrond spoke, sitting next to the mapper and placing a hand on his forehead. He really was burning up. "I would like to see your leg again and then give you a tea against the fever. I am afraid there is nothing else I can do right now as you having a fever is actually a good thing, for it proves your body is fighting the infection. We will only have to worry if your fever rises too high. You need to drink a lot of water and rest."

The younger elf nodded, looking down. "Forgive me for interrupting you, my Lord. I should have known all that."

Elrond did not even know what to say anymore with this elf constantly apologizing. Placing a firm hand on his shoulder, he caused the traveller to look up and meet his gaze with glassy silver eyes.

"I am glad you came and woke me. I would like to ask you to do it again should you feel unwell. And please, stop calling me 'my Lord', mellon-nin." The last comment caused a wry smile to slip on Soread's face and Elrond stood to get fresh bandages and make the tea. He did not look well at all, the injured traveller, his skin sweaty, the tips of his ears glowing red and a confused haze obscuring the sharpness of his eyes. It was by instinct that Celebrian sat down next to him and placed a comforting hand on his back and rubbed him. The cartographer was too exhausted to even react to the no doubt unused touch and instead just pulled the blanket tighter around himself. Celebrian brushed sweaty hair out of his forehead and looked at the shivering elf sympathetically.

Elrond returned and first handed Soread his tea before he kneeled to inspect his leg. He had collected his hair into a quick braid to keep it out of his face as he worked. While he had been away, he had also checked up on the medication he had set up as soon as he first treated Soread's injury. Sadly enough, the medication needed to sit for nine days, only five of which had already passed. Even if he were to apply the medicine, it would not have any effect. However, as the fever was not as high that Elrond would consider it dangerous yet, he hoped Soread's body would be able to fight the infection successfully. At least, the fever showed the elf's immune system was reacting. Which was remarkable considering Elrond knew how meagre his diet had been for many years now.

While Elrond changed the bandages after applying fresh salve, Soread fell into an uneasy sleep, brought by thanks to the sleeping herbs the healer had added to the fever reducing tea.

"Will he be alright?" Celebrian worried, gently brushing a loose strand of hair out of Soread's face. Looking up and watching her movement, Elrond came to realise that he, like his wife, worried about his guest in a very personal way. Despite only having known the cartographer for a few days, the mapper had already grown to him with his amicable demeanour and his sincereness in his worries.

"I hope so," he admitted, wrapping up the bandages. Standing, he looked out of the window but only the darkness behind the glass greeted him and told him it was still deep at night. Sighing, Elrond stood next to his sleeping charge and then manoeuvred him into his arms. Straightening, the elf lying limply in his arms, his head resting against Elrond's chest, the healer waited for his wife to gather the blanket that was halfway in his arms and halfway falling onto the ground. The elf was far lighter than he should be considering his height and therefore the Noldo had no trouble carrying the still sleeping mapper back into his own room, settling him into his bed and covering him with blankets which were quickly pulled around the slender form by Soread's slim fingers.

"I will get changed and then stay with him," Celebrian said, turning to leave the room.

"He does not need supervision, my love. It will be fine if we check on him once every hour or so," Elrond smiled, amused about her concern.

"But I want to stay with him," Celebrian said in a tone of voice as if though she was daring him to object. Her husband, however, was not going to do anything of the like and just raised his hands in surrender.

"I will be in my study if you need me. And I will come check on him in an hour," Elrond said, deciding he would not find the peace of mind to fall asleep anytime soon anyway and therefore he could simply start with his day early.

While Celebrian and Elrond both got changed, Soread was in a deep sleep, his dreams dark and tangled, distorted by his troubles and the healer's advice ghosting through his mind.

* * *

The wood elf travelling strange lands woke slowly and to the sound of rustling leaves. Blinking heavily, he barely had time to wonder why his eyes had been closed in the first place before he was greeted by a tall elven Lord, his demeanour as strong as it was kind.

"Soread," Elrond spoke, relief colouring the dark voice. "You are awake."

Carefully prodding himself up to sit in his bed, almost drowning in the sheets, the mapper tried to recall the last few days. He did not remember as much as he would like and most importantly, he did not remember how long ago it was that he had woken up his hosts in the middle of the night.

"You have been here for five days," the healer spoke, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning over to place a hand against Soread's forehead. The elf flinched away at first but after seeing the patience in Elrond's eyes, he moved back to his earlier position and allowed the Lord of Imladris to touch his skin. The healer nodded in approval. "Your fever got worse two days ago. We had troubles bringing your temperature back down. I do not expect you to remember much of it. You were having nightmares though, so your throat might feel a bit sore."

As the healer mentioned it, Soread did indeed feel pain as he swallowed. Instinctively, he raised his hand to rest against his throat.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine, my Lord," Soread spoke and this time his voice was not soft because he was embarrassed of the fact he was sitting in his nightclothes in his bed in front of the great elven healer who had probably spent a lot of time to aid him in the last couple of days, but simply because his throat would not allow him to speak any louder.

"You do realise this answer tells me nothing?" Elrond reprimanded gently.

"Headache, sore throat and sensitive skin," Soread listed, suddenly noticing the open window and door. Apparently, they had just been airing out the room, for it was not cold enough for the window to have been open for a longer time.

"Your leg?"

"No pain, my Lord. It feels rather warm but does not cause me any discomfort."

"I am glad to hear that. Still, I would like for you to drink this tea. Be warned, it tastes awful. I have mixed the medicine into it that is helping your body fight off the infection. And I would like to have another look at your leg."

Now, the traveller noticed that Elrond had been carrying a steaming mug which he had placed on the bedside table as he had sat down. He made to lean over to grasp it but his host was quicker, placing the cup into his cool hands.

While Elrond once again checked the wound and announced the infection had in fact retreated and that the wound would heal nicely from now on, Soread tried to apologize for the inconvenience he had caused – twice – before he listened to the healer who told him in very serious tone and no uncertain words that he did not wish to hear any more apologies.

The following days, the healer was astounded to see just how quickly the leg wound healed. Had anyone told him about the process, he would have been very sceptical about the validity of that information. Seeing it with his own eyes though, he could not deny that Soread possessed a very powerful healing rate now that the infection had been fought off. The wood elf spent a lot of time with Celebrian while Elrond worked, accompanying her to the school and speaking with Imladris' children with practiced ease. Also, after the Lady handed him parchment, ink and other drawing supplies, the cartographer began drawing a lot. This time, he did not show Elrond the maps he drew, simply taking it away every time the healer asked, smiling and saying that the Lord of Imladris would get to see the work soon enough. In the evenings, he often joined them in the Hall of Fire. They did not speak about the letter anymore, though both Noldor had seen Soread deep in thought with his letter in hand.

"Good morning, my Lord, my Lady," Soread spoke his daily greeting with perfect politeness.

Two weeks had passed since he had woken from his fever. And while he had been eating decent amounts of food ever since then, Elrond was still dismayed to see how little the elf weighed and how little he could eat before claiming he was done. However, he knew the elf was trying, if not for his own sake than for his host's.

"Good morning," Celebrian replied but her eyes were narrowed. She noticed how stiff the cartographer held himself, stiffer than he had in recent days.

Slowly, the mapper took his customary seat.

"My Lady –," he began but Celebrian shook her head.

"Eat first," she demanded, already guessing what this conversation would be about. Her guest smiled and dipped his head before he reached for some bread and filled his mug with tea. After complying with the fair Lady and eating a full breakfast, Soread put his cutlery down, adjusting it so it would lie parallel to each other and orthogonal to the edge of the table.

"My Lady, my Lord," he spoke and gained his hosts' attention. "I am deeply grateful that you so graciously opened up your home to me. I do not wish to imagine what would have happened had I not been fortunate enough to stumble upon your beautiful city. Sadly enough, I have nothing to repay you your good deeds. I hope, I do not seem ungrateful if I now ask to leave in the morrow, for I am. Words cannot describe my gratitude for your kindness and aid. However, as much peace as this rest has brought upon my soul, I yearn to travel once more. My maps are calling me and I have troubles staying here without work."

"You need not repay us, Soread," Celebrian spoke sadly. She had enjoyed the wood elf's presence and was reluctant to let him leave so soon. Yet, Soread was not bound to her in any way other than friendship, and therefore, she would not ask him to stay back for her worries' sake.

"I understand that you wish to go. Winter is approaching and as soon as the first snow falls, the High Pass will be blocked," Elrond spoke slowly, his eyes searching the elf sitting opposite. Celebrian saw Soread lower his gaze to his plate. While she knew nothing about her guest's trouble, she did know that her husband had advised him to return to Greenwood and with his words, Elrond had hinted at his advice once more. Though Celebrian hoped to spend the remaining day with the cartographer, she also understood her husband's wish to speak with the mapper once more.

"I have to check up on the school this morning. However, Soread, please, I would love to spend the afternoon with you, if you so wish? I would like to have the time for a proper goodbye," Celebrian therefore stated before she rose to her feet. Kissing Elrond on his soft lips, she squeezed his shoulder in an encouraging gesture and afterwards nodded demandingly in Soread's direction, her gaze interlocked with her husband's.

"I will talk to him," the healer whispered back to quietly answer her demand and Celebrian smiled slightly before she left the dining room.

"Would you mind if we went back up into my room?" Soread asked, apparently understanding that Elrond wished to talk about his family once more. Elrond smiled upon hearing how Soread referred to the chambers they had given to the cartographer. The way he used the simple words spoke of a trust Elrond had barely ever before heard in the wood elf's words. The dark-haired elf was glad that he and Celebrian had been able to offer Soread a refuge where he felt save.

"Of course," Elrond nodded and rose to his feet. They walked up in silence and as the healer watched his charge from the side, he could barely even notice the limp the injured traveller had sported ever since his arrival anymore.

"Are you going to go home?" Elrond cut straight to the point once he had settled in his by now customary seat with Soread sitting in the armchair opposite.

"I don't know," the greenwood elf was quick to answer. "What if they do not want me there?" He asked after a long silence. Elrond sighed. He had already told the young elf he very much doubted it, yet, he could not promise anything.

"You are very welcome to come back here, should that be the case. Celebrian and I would love to have you," he therefore only offered a place for Soread to come back to. "We don't need these chambers. We will keep everything as it is until you return."

A shy smile spread on Soread's lips for a moment, but then he sighed once again. He did not thank Elrond and the elf Lord was not sure if it was because the cartographer knew deep inside that his family would not cast him away or simply because he did not fully believe the healer's words. Or maybe if it simply slipped his mind as he was too worried.

In the end, Elrond was unable to do more than encourage Soread to travel back to Greenwood. When they met Celebrian for lunch, the elf from Greenwood, the cartographer gave himself calm, joyful and open, not letting his composure slip even a single time.

"Sleep well," Celebrian said sadly in the evening, embracing a surprised Soread before she stood and left his chambers which she had occupied until late at night.

The next morning went by quickly. Elrond had arranged for provisions to be packed and had readied a horse for the cartographer. After a quick and light breakfast, Soread gathered his arms and went outside.

"I thank you for your hospitality, my Lord, my Lady. And your aid," the mapper repeated his thanks, bowing deeply.

"Soread," Elrond spoke softly, guiding the elf away from his wife. Looking deep into silver eyes, he spoke once more: "Promise me, Soread, that one day you will return and tell me your brother's name."

"One day, my Lord, one day I will," the young elf replied seriously but his eyes betrayed his uncertainty as to when that day would come.

"Take care and remember, you are always welcome here," Elrond said, hugging the elf who stiffened at first, before returning the hug.

After saying goodbye to Celebrian in a similar fashion, he took his bag with provisions and turned to leave the courtyard. At the bridge that guided into the forest, he once more turned. Raising one hand in farewell, the cartographer turned away from the beautiful city of Imladris and left. His sure steps led him through the save forests. He avoided the dangerous path alongside the mountain. Instead, he climbed down into the valley. Taking the road, he went south until the road crossed with another. The wood elf, long since lost to his people, looked down the road to the east where he knew his home to be, the vast, lush forest of Greenwood with its high and mighty trees, sheltering the elves living within. Then, he looked down the road to the west, the door to Eriandor, a land he had not yet travelled.

Sighing deeply, Soread turned right, leaving the way home behind. It was not time yet, he told himself, ignoring the fact that it was only his failing courage what caused him to wander this way.

"Forgive me, Lord Elrond," he spoke softly to himself, feeling as though he was betraying the great elven Lord who had so graciously offered him his advice. An advice he was not strong enough to take.

And so, his wide steps carried Soread west into Eriandor. Soon, the cartographer was immersed in scouting the area and slowly a map formed from the tip of his quill and was drawn carefully onto a wide sheet of parchment. He felt calm doing what he loved so much, but more often when before would his thoughts stray back to Greenwood; the healer's advice still vividly in his thoughts, yet ignored time and time again. Nay, the map came first, he told himself, wandering into the swamps, his maps carefully encased in their leather tubes. His path would not wound east of the mountains in the months to come. The map came first.

* * *

Elrond was about to return to his chambers to freshen up and relax for a few minutes before he went to dinner when he stopped in the hallway. His eyes had settled on the wooden door ornated with the relief of a large tree that led to the chambers Soread had occupied during his time here. The cartographer had left Imladris a week ago and since then the healer had taken the time to catch up on his work. As his children and Glorfindel would return either tonight or tomorrow, he had wanted to have free time to spend with them. Despite this, he had already come to miss the cartographer. He and Celebrian had talked about Soread several time since his departure, his wife commenting on how she hoped the mapper had found his way home to Greenwood.

Elrond had promised Soread to keep his chambers as they were in case he should return and therefore he had not entered them since his guest had left. Yet, somehow, he felt the urge to do so now. The healer knew that the cartographer had not changed anything and had not left anything behind either, considering just how small his pack had been in the first place. Well, the sheets needed changing either way, he reasoned, so why not do it now? Somehow, he did not wish to ask a servant to clean through the chambers because even though the mapper had not put an individual touch to the chambers, he still felt as if it would not be right for a stranger to enter Soread's refuge. He himself had spent countless hours sitting at the elf's bedside when he had been sick or accommodating the settee as they spoke.

It was with a sure feeling that Elrond therefore opened the door to the chambers. Looking around the sitting room, his eyes almost instantly fell on the low table in the middle of the room. An orderly stack of parchment was lying on it and even from the door, Elrond could see it was a map of sorts.

Curious, and a bit surprised, for he had not expected to find anything, the Lord of Imladris stepped into the room, letting the door fall shut behind him.

A small note lay upon the stack and even just glancing beside the note, Elrond already saw that it was a map lying on the table. Reigning in his curiosity, he reached for the note and focused on the few slanted words written there.

"This is all I can offer," he read aloud, the message signed with the intertwined D and S Soread had also used to sign the letter to his parents. Placing the note on the side, Elrond took the stack of parchment in his hand. He smiled upon looking down at it. There, on the firm parchment, was a map of the first floor of Elrond's house. And again, the healer was astonished by Soread's skill. The only decoration on the map was a small picture of the Hall of Fire in the left hand lower corner and a small map of Imladris in the upper right hand corner, where Elrond's house was marked with red ink, protruding from the small black blocks that represented the other houses of the village in way more detail than Elrond would have imagine possible. Yet with those two small pictures alone, Soread had managed to capture a calm serenity that washed over the viewer as he looked upon the map. A smile spread on Elrond's lips as he knew that this was how Soread had seen his house, as a place of calm and security.

Gently taking the map, he placed it by his side to look at the one underneath. It too showed the healer's house but instead of the first floor, it portrayed the second floor. While the small map of the city on the upper corner remained the same, the picture of the Hall of Fire was replaced by one of the healing ward. A tiny herb indicated Elrond's storage room for medications, the healing ward itself was symbolised by a knife crossed with a needle with some string. Even though the Lord of Imladris had never seen this symbol before – Imladris used a cross to indicate places of healing – it was still clear that in Greenwood this was what represented healing.

The map of the third floor had a picture of Elrond's study on it. The healer cringed slightly at seeing the disorganised mess Soread had portrayed in the picture, but as the cartographer had only ever seen his study once and that it had been in this state when the mapper had seen it, Elrond could hardly blame him.

There even was a map of the fourth floor, this time the picture showed the view one had if one looked out the high window onto the courtyard beneath.

Elrond found his breath had caught in his throat once more. Soread's work was breath-taking, he thought to himself, promising himself he would cherish these maps and keep them in his study so he would be able to look at them whenever he pleased. A sad smile spread on his lips because he knew Soread had no idea what a gift he had bestowed upon his hosts. To see the cartographer's appreciation for this house and the peace to be found here captured I these perfect maps was more thanks than Elrond was used to even from the mightiest kings who brought the riches of the world in exchange for advice. No, this heartfelt map was worth way more than that. Deep in his heart, Elrond hoped that one day he would see the cartographer once more.

 _ **The End**_

* * *

 _ **Please review!**_

 **A big THANKS to my awesome beta(s) SamGreg! You were a great help with this story!**

 _ **A/N Please read!:**_ I took a lot longer to write this story than I had originally planned. And yet, I love the story so much. I hope, everyone who read it enjoyed it as well and I hope some of those who have not left a review during the time of posting will be kind enough to take the time to review now. I would love to hear what you think, what you liked or if maybe there were points you disliked. Also, I am thinking about writing a sequel at one point and I would like to hear your opinion about that as well.


	9. Sequel

If you have enjoyed this story you might want to check out the sequel I just posted. It is called **'The Cartographer's Return'** and shows Soread's return to Imladris several years after this story. I would love to hear your opinion and hope you will enjoy it!

Have a nice day and a wonderful advent season!


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